The Real Deal
by ms17thst
Summary: Is Helena getting tired of people not knowing who the real HG Wells is? And will the Univille reporter uncover the truth when HG gives away clues? And who will rescue HG from her own words? Mrs. Frederic/Claudia and OC's.
1. Wells vs Verne

**Chapter 1 Wells vs. Verne**

It was supposed to be a relaxing evening for the entire group of friends – a night out after a long week of chasing down artifacts. A traveling art show was making its only appearance in South Dakota and it was happening at Univille's one art gallery. Claudia had seen the flyer for it and thought it would be the perfect thing for all of them to enjoy. Not a stuffy display of artwork but a _steampunk_ exhibition that she was sure would entertain them all.

"There's something for everyone," she told Myka excitedly. "Don't tell HG. Let's surprise her," she pleaded and that made Myka nervous. Surprising the Brit, no matter what your intention, could have negative consequences. She wanted to remind the young agent what happened the last time someone wanted to _surprise_ HG. Pete was convinced that taking her to a concert would be a cultural awakening but HG wasn't ready for the blaring music and became violently ill – all over his shoes. But Claudia promised it was low key and no loud sounds. So they piled into the SUV and proceeded to the exhibit.

'_Steampunk – Art Imitating Imagination'_ the large display in the window announced and Myka immediately guessed why Claudia had picked it. It would have cool science fiction gadgets for Claudia and Pete, historical references for Artie, Victorian references for her and Leena and of course, the personal touch for HG. No exhibition about the genre which originated in the late 20th century was complete without references to _the_ HG Wells. The anachronistic technology display promised to entertain _patrons from every generation_. They didn't count on one of them being from the 19th century.

HG slowed her gaze at the storefront window and took in every word.

They stepped into the gallery which was crowded with locals who had an appreciation for art, science fiction and anything new that came to their town. Myka smiled as she always did, to see her partner's other life appear in the present and thought for a moment how pleased Helena would be. But when she turned to see where HG was, it was not pleasure she saw on her face. HG's arms were crossed, her brow furrowed and her eyes dark as her stare seemed more like a laser beam scanning the place.

"Uh oh," Myka said and went to her. But before she could say anything, they were greeted by the curator of the small establishment - who was adorned in his own steampunk fashion of a military jacket covered by a metallic vest that was fashioned after HG's imperceptor vest.

"Welcome, welcome!" the overseer said and grabbed Myka's hand. "I don't think we have seen you here before," he smiled broadly. "Aren't you fascinated by this genre? It's captivating, isn't it? I made this especially for the occasion," he said obviously proud of his vest.

Helena turned her stare to him. "Where would you put the energy source?" she asked looking behind him. He was clueless. "The what?" he laughed nervously because he could tell HG was not as friendly as her friend. "Your power source. You have not planned a connection for it. Where would you put it?" she asked. He looked like a deer in headlights as he tried to figure out what she was alluding to.

"Oh!" he finally said breaking out into laughter, mistaking her question as more teasing than a legitimate question. "I guess I won't be going anywhere in this," he chuckled much to HG's ire. Myka put her arm around HG and pulled her in close. "Well, why don't we see the rest of the exhibit, Hel," she laughed on purpose.

"Really, Myka! I have never seen such shoddy work. How can you even think of making an imperceptor vest without a connection for power?" HG all but pouted as she allowed Myka to pull her away.

"I know, sweetie," Myka comforted her partner as only she could.

"HG, look at these," Claudia called out and there on display were insects and arachnids that artists had made out of metal piping with nuts and bolts. HG looked but was not amused.

Leena was looking at the Victorian age influenced dresses and suits that were decorated with metallic castings. "Just what I would need, more weight in my wardrobe," she said and Myka laughed.

In spite of the sign prominently displayed, '_Please Do Not Touch'_, Pete's hands had touched every object fashioned into a weapon. "This would so not work," he said holding a metal gun with a scope on the top with knobs for focusing. "By the time you…," he was saying when one of the docents who decided it was her personal mission to follow him, asked him to put it down. "Just saying…," Pete said guilty.

The group walked into the second room. There on several tables, were replicas of the very machines mentioned in many of the great works of the authors. In the corner was a display of two car seats fashioned after the great _Time Machine_ itself. Except this one had a set of dice hanging from the makeshift mirror.

"Hey HG, look at what they added," Pete called out thinking it was a really cool addition. Helena looked on horrified.

What would appear to most people as a cleverly put together exhibition of clothing, machines and sculptures in the style of the Victorian age influenced genre, was for one person a mockery.

And then the _coup de grace_. The bold, black letters greeted the visitors by stating; "_This technology on display includes such imaginary machines as those found in the works of Jules Verne and HG Wells_," the message explained.

"_Oh God, they put her second_," Myka said in a low voice.

Only Myka immediately braced for it. The others had no idea what was happening but she did. She could hear HG's breathing quicken as she read the words. And then it happened – above the quiet murmurings of the crowd who were looking at the gallery's exhibits, came the sound of yelling.

"Imaginary? Im-ag-in-ary? _Imagination mon cul_! They dare compare my Time Machine to his submarine that would sink in a bathtub let alone, twenty thousand leagues? Or dare to put my rocket with that- that- cylinder that he proposed carried men to the moon? That thing would not have gotten off the ground. The nerve of these people to be so historically inaccurate. _Ces enfants de putain devraient faire plus attention!_" HG said to express her exasperation. Myka started to touch HG but pulled back when she shouted -

"They should not be allowed to mix up one man's – one man's _fantasy _with another woman's _genius_. _On devrait les pendre pour trahison_!" the Brit ranted, waiving her hands at the objects and now Claudia just stared at her.

Anytime HG slipped into French, they all knew it was a bad thing. Myka bit her lip as she attempted to smile at the faces that had turned to stare of them. There was a young man in the corner of the room who seemed to have been watching them and now, he smiled broadly as his fingers flew across his Blackberry. His head jutted up and down as he watched the scene and then typed.

The curator pushed through the crowd, catching his vest on the clothes of people he came in contact with. The man with the Blackberry followed closely behind.

"Madam, please!" the gallery owner said putting his hand on HG's arm and smiled at the people around him.

"I wouldn't touch her," Pete whispered to the unsuspecting man who immediately withdrew his hand as if he were touching something volatile.

'You!" Helena said to the frightened curator. "Are you the one responsible for this debacle?" she asked as her eyes darkened and held him in place.

"Madam, I want the exhibit to evoke curiosity and emotion in people, but you madam … well, well .." he stammered.

"That's Madam Wells to you, sir," HG said in a low voice and turned on her heels to exit. People stepped out of her way as a human aisle formed to the door. Myka smiled and shook her hand and realized now everyone was staring at HG's exit and now back at her.

"She's …. Eh ….. not really a Jules Verne fan, ha ha …," Myka tried and caught the young man out of the corner of her eye. She hurried behind the Brit to make sure she was in fact, exiting. She turned at the doorway, HG was not in sight but the BlackBerried hipster was. He was on Myka's heels. "I'd say that was a little bit more than just not a JV fan," he said looking directly at the one of the prettiest girl he had come across in some time.

"Sorry?" Myka said not looking at him.

"Your friend's reaction? A little over the top don't you think?" he said watching Myka.

"She lives over the top," Myka answered not thinking.

"Danny Sullivan," he said reaching out to shake Myka's hand. She finally saw the gesture. "Oh, Myka Bering," she said back and took his hand. A few seconds later, she realized she had not let go and he was wearing a chesire grin.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I have to find her," she said and pulled her hand back.

"I would really like to talk to your friend. I'm a reporter for the Univille Tribune and I don't think I've seen anyone react to an exhibition quite like that," the man said and Myka laughed out loud. It was a combination of '_are you kidding me?' and 'I can't let that happen_."

"No, no …. I don't think Helena would really want to ..," Myka said wondering where she had gone.

"So her name is Helena," Dan said typing it into his phone.

"No, I mean yes. Don't write that down," Myka instructed but it was too late.

"Helena?" he prompted but his answer came from behind him.

"Wells," the voice was velvety and smooth and the young reporter turned quickly to see what creature that voice was coming from. He came face to face with HG.

"Helena Wells? Oh, no wonder," he said thinking her preference was as simple as having the same name. "Danny Sullivan," he said introducing himself. Helena reached out and took his hand and Danny actually felt something electric going up his arm. "It's my pleasure…," he said and HG smiled devilishly. "Oh, I know that Mr. Sullivan."

Myka shook her head as she was watched a familiar scenario; a young man thinking he would charm his way into HG's personal space and gain something from her while all the time, unbeknownst to him, he was being enveloped in her web of charisma and wit….. and it would be his demise.

"I'd love to ask you a few questions," he said trying to figure out how he could get either of these two beautiful women to invite him wherever they were going.

"I don't think so," Myka said thinking she was simply putting words to HG's thoughts.

"About what?" was what she heard instead.

"About your very passionate response to the exhibit," he explained.

"You mean the fact that they erroneously brought together one of the greatest minds of science and a mediocre author who could not write his way out of a wet paper bag?" HG asked and Myka tried shaking her head to stop.

"Well, if my Wikipedia serves me correctly," the reporter said, "Verne accused Wells of scientifically implausible ideas."

"Scientifically implausible? Well Mr. Verne had to eat his words, did he not?" HG spat back.

"Did he? Are you suggesting that Mr. Wells did in fact produce workable prototypes of any of his imaginary machines?" Danny asked purposely using words that might set the woman off. He was good.

"I am suggesting that he ….. that Wells ….. had more scientifically sound ideas that if brought to fruition, could have indeed been workable models," HG said finally deciding to choose her words carefully.

"I don't think so," Danny said acting disinterested.

"Are you mad?" HG said taking the well laid bait.

"You'd have to prove it to me," the reporter said victoriously.

HG opened her mouth … to say a lot of things ….but Artie was coming out and announcing their return trip to the B&B was about to commence.

"We have to go," Myka said grabbing HG this time to prevent her from saying any more.

"Maybe I could come out and ask you ….," Danny called after the two beautiful women locked arm in arm now.

"No, don't think so," Myka said and it was obvious that she was pulling HG with her. Maybe her friend disagreed.

"The B&B…,"Danny typed into his phone as he tipped his hat to his favorite two women in all of Univille. He then dialed his phone to his editor. "Yeah, I got the art review. I will forward it to you when I hang up. And Hal? I need to take a vacation day tomorrow. Yes, I know it's Saturday."

* * *

**Thank you to Ariel Hedgehog for her help with the French that comes out of HG's mouth! **  
**Your comments/feedback are always appreciated - and you know I read them all. **


	2. Works Like a Charm

**Chapter 2 Works Like a Charm**

Danny Sullivan had been at the Univille Tribune ever since high school when he worked part time. The paper had helped him pay for his college tuition and graduate school and he promised he would give them as many years as they had helped before he made his break for New York. Danny wanted to work for the NY Times or any other worldly paper. He knew papers were transitioning and he brought the Tribune into the electronic age by helping them develop the paper online. Danny liked it because it meant he could update a story instantly. That was, if there were ever a story of interest to update. Univille was a rather quiet town and Danny craved the excitement that a big city would bring. But for now, he'd have to settle for being the lead writer on most things that happened in the area.

Danny had a couple of key ingredients that made him good at what he did. He had a gut instinct about things and he persevered. So as he sat there in the diner the next morning, something about last night kept gnawing at him. Why had Helena reacted so vehemently to the exhibition? Danny took his pen out and jotted things down on the napkin stained with scrambled egg. She did share the same last name – which he wrote down – so maybe there was a familial connection. Could the IRS Agent be the great-great granddaughter of the great HG Wells? And why did she say 'one _man's _fantasy but one _woman's_ genius? Helena's tirade sounded very personal, he thought. Maybe she knew something about the great science fiction writer worth exploring. He pulled out his IPad and pushed dirty plates out of his way. Rose, the waitress, poured him more coffee and cleared the table. The Wi-Fi reception was terrible and Danny gathered his things and paid and left for the library.

* * *

Myka raised herself up and leaned on her elbow. She looked down at the face of the woman who had a restless night beside her. She wasn't surprised considering that it took forever for HG to stop talking about the exhibit and she only fell asleep after wearing herself out. But HG was like a record player and Myka knew that as soon as those black eyes opened, the needle would descend and the record would start where it left off. _God, this woman never lets go of anything_! Myka considered simply covering that mouth with hers when she woke, but that would only be like covering the tea kettle spout when it was whistling. It might temporarily quiet the noise but the steam would be building and explode later on. Better to let it out and let it run its course, Myka thought as she slipped out of bed to shower. As HG continued her sleep, Myka could hear the sounds of Leena preparing breakfast and the smell of fresh coffee waffled up the stairs. She dressed and waited but HG did not move so Myka made her way downstairs to indulge herself in a cup of caffeine. She would need it if HG woke up as revved up as went to sleep.

"Good morning, Leena. Oh God, you're a saint for getting up so early!" Myka said as she poured her coffee.

"Thanks," Leena asked and Myka poured her a cup, too. "How's HG?"

"Well, sleeping at the moment but you know…," Myka said not needing to finish the sentence. Anyone who lived in the house knew what Myka meant. They had all witnessed the uncontrolled ranting's of the Brit once she got her teeth into something.

"Must be hard for her sometimes," Leena pondered. "I mean not to get credit for you work simply because you're a woman? And then to wake up in a more egalitarian time and still not be able to get it?"

Myka smiled sadly at the truth behind Leena's statements. She wondered to herself if HG had not been bronzed, would historians have discovered that someone else wrote the works? Would some theorized, like they do about William Shakespeare, that Charles was simply not bright enough to come up with the mechanics of those stories? '_Charles provided the mustache_,' is how Helena had put it the first time she met Myka. It would seem he did not add much else other than acting as the vehicle for those stories and only then because of his gender.

Artie interrupted her thoughts and burst into the kitchen will his usual lack of salutation. "Coffee, please," he begged as he motioned for Myka to pour it into the cup he held.

"Well, good morning to you, too," Myka said as she obliged him.

"Yeah, yeah please. I didn't sleep at all last night. The neutralizer pipes kept banging. Did Pete clean them last week?" he wondered out loud.

"Yes, I did," Pete's voice replied as he came in the door.

"Well, not very well cause they're making all kinds of noise," Artie complained.

"Did you ask HG? Cause she was the last one down there," Pete asked leaning over the stove to sample the sizzling hot sausage. "Ow, ow, ow ….," Pete yelled in-between bites of the hot link from the pan.

"Now Pete, we've been over this," Leena chastised him. "You can't take food right from the pan and not expect to get burned."

"But ….itth tho good," he said with his mouth full of the steamy hot meat.

Claudia came into the kitchen, her hair tousled and her eyes not yet open all the way. "Geez Myka, could you have put a pillow over HG's face when the clock struck two? I think that should be a new house rule." She motioned for Myka to pour her coffee and Myka realized why no one ever sat on that stool closest to the coffee machine.

* * *

No one else was in the library and that was due to the fact that it was not open yet. But Danny Sullivan had great charm and he knew the head librarian. She often let him in early or stay after hours in the interest of his work and the fact that like many of the women in town, she had a crush on him. It wasn't just his good looks and the hat that became his signature that he always tipped to women like someone out of the 1940's. Danny had real charm and he brought flirting to new heights. Whenever his boss was meeting with advertisers, he would ask the young reporter to join him. Danny had an ease with people that even his boss envied. What you saw was what you got. There was nothing pretentious about him.

Danny scoured the books for anything to do with HG Wells and beyond the copies of the books he wrote, there was little else. He returned to his IPad and searched other databases. Danny had to access the British Museum's online database about the great author. Sitting under the large sign that read; '_Absolutely No Food or Beverages in the Library_' – Danny sipped on the coffee he brought in with him. Charm had its privileges.

* * *

Helena was finally waking up from what she would later call a _bloody sleepless night_. True to what Myka predicted, as soon as the Brit's eyes opened, her thoughts were on the exhibition. Oh how frustrating it was for her to come upon that. She tolerated the poor movie renditions of her story about the Time Machine but had to draw the line when her work was always lumped with that of the other man who seemed to forever share the title of the Father of Science Fiction. It was annoying when she watched the comparison back in her time, but to see that no one had corrected it in all these years was just unfathomable to her. How could people still be making that mistake? Where were the students of literature conducting research for graduate school or PhD programs that would uncover the fact that there was simply no way Charles Wells was capable of the technology he used in his books? How this fact had escaped the brightest minds, HG wondered as she readied herself for breakfast. No wonder the world was in the state it was she decided.

* * *

Danny was reading the London high society pages of the 1890's when something caught his eye. He had been looking at several sources of photos of the man, HG Wells, most of them at social functions. '_Quite the ladies' man_,' Danny thought to himself as he looked at picture after picture of the author surrounded by young women. Something didn't fit thought the young reporter. This guy looked more like a player and not a very good one at that. He hardly looked like the scientific sort who could come up with the technical ideas that were the foundations of his books. There were numerous resources for the analysis of Wells' works and most of them sited how brilliant the mechanical aspects of his stories were. Danny shook his head as he finished the last of his coffee. He looked at the pictures of HG Wells in various windows on his IPad. _Brilliant _was not the word that came to mind.

"Wait a minute," Danny said out loud and sat up straight in his chair. He turned his IPad sideways and increased the size of the photo from the London Times newspaper. "Well what do we have here?" he wondered as he zoomed in on the woman in the background. The larger he made it, the more blurry it became but he could still make out what appeared to be a very similar face to the one who had caught his attention last night. The caption under the picture read: '_Author HG Wells at a recent London society gathering. Mr. Wells is pictured here with his sister, Helena_.' The resemblance was striking, almost uncanny. 'So that's why she went nuts over the exhibit,' Danny thought. "She knows something about this because she's related to him," Danny said conclusively as he gathered his things and ran out of the library, but not before planting a kiss of thanks on the librarian's cheek. Holding her hand over the place that was moist and with a smile across her face, she knew she'd open the library up at midnight if he wanted it.

"Now where are you running off to, Danny Sullivan?" the woman called out to him.

"I'm going to meet the Time Traveler's great-great granddaughter," he yelled back. "And get my answers."

* * *

Thanks to everyone who posted - I love your comments/feedback and ideas and those of you who do it know  
how much I appreciate it.


	3. Luck of the Irish

**Chapter 3 Luck of the Irish**

With not so much as a _good morning_, HG entered the kitchen where everyone was gathered and, true to form, commenced her speech.

"What disturbs me the most ….," she started to say but as interrupted by the disheveled Claudia who knew she would be moody all day now that she had missed a good night's sleep.

"You," she said stopping HG in her tracks. "Do you realize that your carrying on deprived some of us who can't afford to lose a whole night's beauty sleep ….," she said looking at HG who in spite of her own restlessness, looked beautiful at this hour in tight biking shorts, sports bra and tank top. "…. to lose a whole night's beauty sleep."

"Pardon?" HG said lost in her words.

"New house rule HG – if you're not asleep by 2 AM, Myka's putting a pillow over your head. Just saying," the youth said collapsing her head onto her folded arms. Helena looked at her curiously – for a second and then came back to her original thought.

"Yes, ok then. What disturbs me most about the exhibition last night is they blatantly misled the public," HG said as Leena brought her tea. '_Maybe I should have slipped something in it_,' Leena thought to herself as HG took a sip, thanked her and started again. This time, Artie interrupted her and suggested they all go into the dining room and it was hard to tell who was trying to get out of there the fastest. When HG looked around, there was no one left ….except Myka.

"I understand that conventional wisdom says you can call anything you want art Myka, but I don't think you can assess that medium and call it what you want. You cannot display Picasso and call it an _Impressionist_ piece. Would you put the genius of Thomas Edison in the same exhibition as Richard James?" the Brit asked and Myka stared at her.

"Who sweetie?" Myka asked taking a deep breath wishing someone would call them into breakfast. But the household took a very strong '_every man for himself'_ attitude when it came to escaping HG's tirades. There was no '_women and children first'_ clause Pete called it when they first realized their group intuition was to escape.

"Myka! He invented the first phonograph, the stock ticker machine," HG said exasperated.

"No, honey – I mean the other guy," Myka said patiently.

"Exactly my point, darling! No one would ever think of housing the great works of Thomas Edison alongside those of the slightly creative, some would say more fortuitous than creative mind of the man who invented the Slinky toy?"

"Richard James invented the Slinky? I had one of those when I was a kid. Oh they were fun – I would put it at the top of the stairs…," Myka said smiling off into space until she caught the cold stare of her listener. She had broken one of HG's unspoken rules – changing the subject when the subject was HG.

"Yeah, that would be an abomination," Myka tried to recover.

Maybe if Myka had gotten a full night's sleep she would have chosen her next words more carefully. But the coffee hadn't kicked in and she was really tired.

"But Hel, weren't Verne's stories considered on par with those of …," and then saw the look. HG's eyes widened and nothing short of sparks emanated from them. "No, I mean at the time …. Maybe that's why they put them together….," Myka tried to explain but it was too late.

"_On par_?" HG spat the distasteful phrase out. "You do know your idiom means to be '_equal to_' do you not?" HG snarled and now Myka knew she had broken another rule – always choose your words carefully with Helena. Myka had chosen poorly.

"Well, not equal –equal, Hel just that the perception is that as far as the writing goes …. and just the writing here, Hel not the genius behind the stories … that they were _contemporaries_?" Myka tried feeling the hole she dug herself into getting deeper.

"If you mean that they lived at the same time, then yes, they were contemporaries, Myka," HG said giving her partner the inch she so desperately needed to extract herself from this mess. Now silence hung in the air as Myka bit her upper lip to keep from saying another word.

"You have exhausted me with this discussion," HG finally said and Myka couldn't hold back on her eyebrows rising in disbelief. "I'm going for a run."

Myka was caught between wanting to defend herself and not wanting to miss an opportunity for quiet. This time she chose wisely and let HG leave. She walked into the dining room behind Helena and looked at her friends who were all enjoying a delicious breakfast with a look of '_thanks guys'_ on her face.

"Hey you know the rules, Mykes." Pete said reading her expression accurately. 'And I can't believe you didn't know Richard James invented the Slinky."

"Where is she off to?" Claudia asked sipping on her second cup of coffee.

"She's going for a run," Myka said as she sat down, more exhausted than when she first got up.

"Let's hope she runs out of things to say," Artie piped up from behind his newspaper. Even Leena had to join in on that. "Maybe we can nap while she's out just in case," the inn keeper said smiling. A wound up HG was exasperating.

* * *

Danny Sullivan had two great loves in his life; his younger sister who was in high school whom he adored and his blue 1970's Mercedes Benz coup. He paid equal attention to both and had the same rule about them – no one was allowed to touch either one. He was every teenage boy's nightmare – the older brother who sat with them before Katie came down for their date. He was worse than any father they'd ever met mostly because he let them know he knew what might be on their minds. And if it was – to forget about it. Katie was the brains of the family Danny thought and nothing was going to get in the way of her going to Harvard or Yale. Especially not some boy who had ideas. Katie begged him to tone it down, not to be so scary but it was second nature to Danny to protect – even if it made Katie miserable.

Danny knew where Leena's B&B was and headed out that way. He had to put together a plan because knocking on the door at this hour wasn't one that would work. He knew only a couple of things from his brief meeting with the beautiful women last night. Myka Bering was the sensible friend and seemed protective to the hot tempered Helena. He grew up with first-hand knowledge of people with a shortage of patience and Irish tempers and he knew exactly how to handle them. But he couldn't just call on Helena Wells and annoy the life out of her. He had to attract her first. And it had to appear as if by chance. What might attract a woman who had gone off on the suggestion that HG Wells' machines were nothing more than a wild imagination? And as he shifted gears to take the wide turn onto the road that would pass by the B&B, it came to him.

* * *

Helena never took an IPod with her on her runs and she chastised Myka for doing so. "You need to clear your head, not fill it with words," she would tell Myka when she stood with her hands on her hips waiting until Myka relented. "_You mean someone else's words_," Myka thought but did not say out loud as she would place the cherished device on the table. She didn't want to point out to her running partner that she would be the one filling Myka's head as she talked a blue streak – while she was running! But today, HG's head was filled with thoughts as she wondered what she could do to right the injustice of that art show. She was a mile away from the B&B, running down the main road that led out to the main drag when she saw the car off in the distance with the hood opened. A driver in distress she assumed and made it a point to head that way in case they needed help. She of course, had no way of knowing that the driver had seen her off in the distance and hatched this brain scheme in hopes of getting her attention. He might not attract her consideration but this magnificent machine just might. It was a long shot but one Danny Sullivan was willing to try. And as he peeked up from under the hood and saw the object of his interest running towards him, he smiled and repeated what his grandmother used to say to him every time he got one of his crazy ideas to work; "_Danny my boy, you've got the family's share of the luck of the Irish with you." _

With perfect timing, Danny turned his back on HG as she got closer and threw his hat to the ground feigning complete frustration.

"What seems to be the problem with it?" Helena said as she got closer and Danny turned as if startled by her presence.

"Oh wow – sorry – didn't see you coming," he lied and promised to go to confession next week – an archaic practice that he participated in only when his grandmother made him take her.

Had he been a less secure man, he might have been a little insulted that HG did not take note of him just yet and had all her attention focused on the engine. He went along. "I don't know. I was driving her hard around that turn back there when she started jerking around. I thought maybe it was the spark plug."

Helena dove in without permission and pulled the dip stick out. "Do you have a cloth?" she asked and Danny grabbed an old t shirt from the back seat. "Did you check this?" she asked and the driver said no.

"It's the first thing to check with these cars. They burn a great deal of oil," HG said wiping the long stick off on the rag and pushing it back in. Danny just stood there watching the motions of the tightly clad woman sliding the narrow rod along the cloth and knew right there and then, he could spend all day in confession next week. In fact, it was the silence that followed that caused HG to take note of the driver at all. "You look familiar," she said returning the stick to its well. "The oil is fine."

"Is this a four or five speed?" HG asked and Danny answered five. "Were your shifting gears when it happened?" "Yes, actually I was and we met last night at the art gallery," Danny said hoping he sounded indifferent.

"Ah yes," HG said and he wasn't certain which statement she was agreeing to but she was about to clear that up. "You are the misinformed journalist who attended that fiasco and no doubt reported back that it was a unique pairing of the co-fathers of the misunderstood but often admired genre of science fiction," HG said as if the taste of oil was in her mouth. It wasn't far off because in handling the different plugs and engine parts, she managed to get her hands covered in the substance and now rubbed in on her cheeks as she pushed her hair out of face.

It took a really beautiful woman to wear car grease and look good in it, Danny smiled to himself. "What? Oh, no not at all," he answered.

"Which is it? You're not the deluded reporter or you didn't report that it was a successful event?" HG asked, her oil stained hands on her hips now.

"I am indeed the reporter who wrote that that the gallery event was well attended and by most counts, a triumph - except for the woman whose keen eye and thorough knowledge of the subject matter – who apparently saw what the rest of us missed," Danny said truthfully. It was not the answer HG expected and so she put her head and her hands back under the hood.

"I think I found it. Do you have a screwdriver?" she asked and he handed her the one he used just moments before she arrived. "Your stabilizing bar is loose," she announced as she turned the screw she assumed jarred loose with the sharp turn.

"Danny Sullivan," he said as he stuck out his hand but Helena handed him back his screwdriver. "I know who you are, Mr. Sullivan."

"My friends call me Danny," he said taking the instrument back.

"I'm not your friend, Mr. Sullivan," HG said curtly and yet he found it attractive that there was no pretense about this woman. He liked that she wasn't out to impress him.

"Now I think you will find that your automobile is in working order and you can return from whence you came," HG said nonchalantly. Danny hopped in the car and turned the engine on as it revved with all its power. "Hey, you're some mechanic. Anyone ever tell you you're good with machines?" he said trying to slow down her departure. "It's been mentioned once or twice," HG said smiling to herself.

"I bet it would piss you off if say I went back and took all the credit for repairing the car," he tried but confused her.

"I doubt that I would care very much what you said," HG said and started to walk in the opposite direction of the car. "Good day, Mr. Sullivan. Do drive carefully," she said as she started to sprint. Danny turned the car around and came up alongside her. He slowed the car down to keep pace with her.

"I did a little research on HG Wells and Verne," he shouted to her.

"Mr. Sullivan, you do realize you're driving on the wrong side of the road?" HG called to him not looking at him.

"I think you were so upset because you don't think Verne is in the same league as HG Wells," he shouted out but kept his eye on the road in case someone was in his lane. What he was saying did not impress nor interest Helena.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a car was coming right at him and he had to swerve to get back in his lane amid the loud honking and cursing of the oncoming driver. He sped up ahead so that he could stop until HG caught up. He had to make his next move count or she could turn up the road to the B&B.

"In fact, Ms. Wells – I think you took it so personally because you're the great-great granddaughter of HG Wells," he said from his car and that caught her attention. HG stopped in her tracks and looked at him from across the road. And then he played the ace up his sleeve.

"Here's what I think, Ms. Wells – I think you and I agree that your great-great grandfather was intellectually incapable of coming up with those very creative ideas for the machines he wrote about and therefore, must have had help. Help from a much brighter, might I say – a more intellectually gifted person close to him," Danny said and instantly saw the transformation.

Helena Wells wasn't saying anything yet but he knew that expression. She had just taken the bait – hook, line and sinker.

* * *

**Thanks for the posts and ... the very interesting ideas. Keep them coming ...love them. **


	4. Wish Granted

**Chapter 4 Wish Granted**

Somewhere around the second helping of Leena's delicious pancakes, guilt pushed into Myka's prefrontal cortex and she started to feel badly for letting HG go out by herself. Not that HG had invited her – but she didn't offer either. Maybe the guilt was really because Myka was enjoying the quiet even if she missed her. All the Brit wanted to do was to get it out of her system how upset she was about the exhibit and the more Myka thought about it, the more she understood. Her remorse was obvious and Claudia was the first to respond.

"Must be tough for HG to witness her work and still not be able to get the credit," she said a little more revived now.

"I was thinking about that, too," Leena said putting her coffee cup down. "As I walked around last night I realized what a genius Helena is. I mean, I always knew it but to see all that creativity in one place. And to think her brother got the credit then…. and now."

"You should have let her talk, Myka. Now we'll all pay for it when she comes back pumped up on adrenalin. You know she's even more British after she runs," Pete complained.

"What? I did let her talk," Myka said defensively to her friend who was first out of the kitchen. "I let her talk until two in the morning."

"That's true, she did," Claudia concurred.

"Maybe you should go find her and you know, make sure she's not all wound up," Pete suggested sounding very concerned.

"The game on later?" Artie asked understanding Pete's motivation. No one wanted to hear ranting while the baseball game was on.

"Twelve," Pete said and then turned to Myka. "So you should go now to find her. You know…"

Myka decided she should go look for HG. Not because Pete wanted to hear the game in peace of course but because she was gone a long time now and Myka worried.

"Take my car," were three words that Artie never, ever uttered and yet he did to Myka. In unison, the entire breakfast table turned to him and said "What?"

"You never let me drive it," Pete was the first to whine.

"He won't let me near it," Claudia pointed out.

But Artie was handing the keys over to Myka. "She'll like riding in it," he explained. Artie actually felt sorry for Helena and thought a ride in his car would cheer her up. Myka understood what he was doing even if she was surprised but as she went to take the keys, he snapped them out of her reach. "And under no circumstances Agent Bering are you to allow her to get behind the wheel or touch that engine. I had a special lock put on that engine just to keep her ….," - and then he looked at Claudia …. - " …and every one out from under that hood." Myka nodded and he handed her the key.

"What a waste if HG is coming up the porch," Pete said. But HG was nowhere near the porch.

* * *

The seasoned reporter was excellent at reading body language especially in women. It was one of his favorite past times. He watched women in meetings and at bars. If guys could only pick up on their signals, they'd be a lot better off he thought. So he knew when HG stopped in her tracks and turned to him that it was his cue that it was okay to come closer. He pulled the car over and got out.

"Here's what I can't figure out," Danny said quickly to make sure he kept her interested. "If HG Wells really was the brilliant writer and inventor, why would you care if they comingled him with Jules Verne? Maybe you weren't really upset that they were sharing the stage at all," he postulated. And then before HG could respond, he quickly added - - -

"You know what I think? HG Wells had a reputation as a prophetic writer and a ladies man. And I am willing to venture a guess that neither was correct. He had help, didn't he? And that's what really upset you last night," Danny pressed a little when he saw the look in HG's eyes. She wasn't saying anything but her hesitation spoke volumes.

HG looked the man up and down as she considered what she was hearing. She had to be _very cautious here. _But wasn't this exactly what she had been hoping for – someone to question how Charles was capable of writing those stories?

"Mr. Sullivan, your proposed hypotheses do not interest me nor can I find a plausible reason to share my concrete analysis of that atrocity they called an exhibition last night …and they are wrong on so many levels that I cannot possibly list them in any short span of time," HG said and turned to leave but Danny was ready. He adjusted his argument a little.

"Do you know that Peter Plasencia wrote a book about Verne and called him_ 'the man who invented the future'_? Danny said pushing a little bit more. He didn't know what he was onto, but he knew enough to know something was there.

"And did Mr. Plasencia happen to expound upon just how Mr. Verne was going to take us there? Anyone, my dear Mr. Sullivan can _imagine_ the future. Why I can predict yours right now with some degree of certainty," HG snarled and for the first time Danny thought he might have provoked the wrong woman. After all, she probably carried a gun. But he eyed the Brit up and down in her spandex shorts and formfitting top. Nope, no gun there.

"Well then you know Verne is credited with coining the phrase '_imaginary voyages'_" he said.

"Coined the phrase? Coined the bloody phrase?" HG asked incredulously, the grease still across both of her cheeks they now flushed with color and Danny smiled to himself.

You had to know just how far to press someone with a temper; too much and they shut down and storm off but with just the right amount of nudging and they would allow their anger to fuel their tongues and out comes their real thoughts and feelings.

"Although I think they credit Wells with coming up with the first use of '_time machine_,'" he said as he leaned back on his car and HG turned towards him. He may have looked as if he was retreating but he actually was pulling HG in closer.

"You _think _they credit him? The bloody genius did not just conjure up the seminal phrase Mr. Sullivan; she bloody_ invented_ the machine to back it up!" HG said losing all control now. Her nostrils flared and Danny thought for a minute, she might still be out of breath from the run she was on but the explosive sparks in her eyes spelled pure emotion. He kept leading the questions to keep her off guard. He was after all, a reporter and this was his forte.

"Last night you said _if things came to fruition_, Wells could have produced a workable prototype. Wait, you're not telling me that HG Wells actually built a machine that he thought could move him through time?" Danny asked HG. He didn't point out HG's misuse of the pronoun - again.

"_Yes_!" HG wanted to scream but knew she couldn't. HG had to think quickly now. But her heart ached at the thought of having to have to deny …again…. that it was someone else's idea to write about it and that, no of course not, no one could build a _real_ time machine. Just once, Helena would like to know what it was like to have the credit that was clearly hers. Danny looked at HG as these thoughts punctured her mind and realized that he was not seeing anger in her face, it was sadness.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said and turned away.

"Ms. Wells, last night you said, and I quote, "They should not be allowed to mix up one man's _fantasy _with another _woman's genius_." The words did not sound familiar to HG but then again, she was ranting. "Is this the person who really wrote those stories and dreamt up the machines?" he asked as he showed HG the blurry picture in the newspaper of the woman he thought was HG Wells' sister. HG looked down and was surprised to see a picture of herself on the IPad. She rarely attended the same parties as Charles simply because she used that time to go off to the basement and work on her inventions. But that night, she was not in the basement as Charles partied with the high society of London. She had been visiting a friend in the hospital and returned to the guest filled house.

Helena thought over her choices. What purpose would it serve to dispel the genius of HG Wells as the man pictured in the forefront of the article? If she did concede that he in fact was helped by his brilliant sister, all she would do is taint the reputation of the assumed author and next year, the art exhibit would only be about Jules Verne. Charles had done nothing to deserve his name tarnished.

"Do you know Jules Verne was shot by his nephew and he walked with a limp for the rest of his life?" HG asked looking down at the image and trying to change the subject.

"I didn't know that," Danny said wondering what that had to do with anything.

"He shot him when he found out that they were in love with the same woman," HG said and seemed lost in her words the reporter noticed.

"I'm right aren't I, that you are Wells' descendent," Danny asked and for the first time saw a calm smile come across HG's face.

"You might say that, yes," she answered.

"So tell me, Ms. Wells. How does the great-great granddaughter of the Father of Science Fiction wind up to be an IRS Agent for the United States of America stuck out here?" he asked hoping he was still holding HG's interest.

"Believe me, Mr. Sullivan – it is not the future I predicted I would have," HG said. "Indeed, I …." She started and Danny was sure she was about to say something important. But the roar of the Jaguar coming at them caught HG's attention and she stopped. "Oh bloody hell," she said out loud thinking it was Artie. But as the red car came closer, Helena was pleasantly surprised to see Myka behind the wheel. Myka did not share the feeling when she saw who was with HG.

"Oh bloody hell, this can't be good," Myka said as she secured the keys in her pocket and got out of the car unaware of her use of HG's anthem.


	5. Over Exposure

** Chapter 5 Over Exposure**

Myka tried to read what was going on and for the life of her, could not figure out how Helena was covered in grease.

"Hel?" she said as she got closer.

"Myka? Is Artie okay? Does he know you took his car?" she asked amazed at the sight and then turned to Danny and said, "Artie does not let anyone drive his car."

"She's beautiful," he said but he wasn't looking at the car. He was amazed at how lucky he was to be with not just one really good looking woman, but two! "Good morning Agent Bering. How are you this fine morning?" he asked tipping his hat.

"Fine, Mr. Sullivan, thank you," Myka responded flatly. '_Now what has been going on here_?' she wondered.

"Hel, you have grease….," Myka said taking the napkin from breakfast out of her pocket and rubbing it across the cheek that HG stuck out to her to fix and then the other.

"Mr. Sullivan's car broke down," HG explained and Myka looked over at him suspiciously.

"Aha," Myka said letting him know her real feeling.

"Your friend here is very good with her hands," Danny said purposely and read Myka's expression as her head shot around to look at him. She was not pleased with that phrase - which meant she was being very protective. He could tell that HG's attention was now distracted, too. Experience had taught him that it was tough to get past the 'best friend' bond if one of them didn't like you and right now, he was getting that feeling from Myka.

"Well Helena you have given me a great deal to think about. I will continue my research and maybe we can talk again?" he asked hopefully. But HG was a little concerned about what '_continue my research'_ meant.

"I doubt you will find anything of interest, Mr. Sullivan. It's all been written about I dare say," HG said trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh I am not so sure it has been," Danny said smiling devilishly. And then he said something he had never said to another human being; "You're welcomed to drive my car _anytime_, Ms. Wells," as he got back into the car and turned the ignition on, purposely revving it as a demonstration of power. He tipped his hat and then pushed it down tightly so it wouldn't come off in the wind and took off in a trail of noise.

"What did he want?" Myka asked when he was off in the distance.

"He wanted to know why I was upset last night. Unlike the rest of my friends, he wanted to hear it," HG said and now Myka knew what HG felt about everyone leaving the kitchen.

"What did you tell him?" Myka asked afraid of what the answer might be.

"Nothing really. I fixed his car even though he knew exactly what was wrong with it," HG said but didn't offer an explanation. If that screw had come loose on its own, it would have been stripped. HG knew from looking at it that it had been unscrewed on purpose.

"Can I drive?" HG asked turning her attention to the red car. "Please, Myka – just back home," she asked as she ran her hand over the driver's door.

"No, Helena. I'm sorry but I promised Artie," Myka said knowing the Brit was not about to give up. "I'm not even sure I can let you in the car like that. Take off your top," Myka instructed without thinking.

"You want me to ride topless?" HG said moving closer to Myka and into her personal space. "Why Myka Bering, whatever are you suggesting?"

"Not your top, I mean your top with the grease on it … from your know … your hands," Myka said trying to ignore the blatant innuendo.

"Let me drive and I'll do it," HG tried to bargain but Myka had given her word.

"No, now get in the car," Myka said going to the driver's side. She knew HG had at least another half hour of material as to why she should be allowed to drive and Myka didn't want to give her the chance to use it. Helena dropped her shoulders in defeat as she removed her stained shirt and plopped into the passenger seat. "Fine," was all she said before buckling up. Myka went to turn on the car but nothing happened. Twice and no noise.

"Oh-my- God," Myka said thinking she had broken the prized car.

"What seems to be the problem, darling?" HG asked casually as she looked out her side of the car. She knew exactly what the problem was.

"I don't know it won't turn over – look!" Myka said with panic in her voice as she turned the key again and nothing happened. "I broke it!"

HG laughed as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "Don't be ridiculous, darling. Pop open the hood and I'll take a look."

"No Hel, you can't," Myka said as she looked around for what the problem might be.

"Of course I can," the Brit said with her usual air of confidence.

"No, I mean he put a special lock on it to keep you out," Myka said with her head under the dashboard and immediately prayed that HG had not heard that. She slowly raised her head to see HG standing in her sports bra and bike shorts with a look on her face that confirmed – she heard every word.

"Oh did he?" she said sarcastically as she pushed her hands under the hood and felt around. Her nimble fingers slid along the grill until she felt the contraption. "I don't suppose you have a paperclip on you?" HG asked and Myka searched her pocketbook. "I do!" she said finding the treasure at the bottom of her bag. She got out of the car and gave it to HG who was kneeling in front of the Jaguar.

"Please don't scratch it, Helena. He'll kill me," Myka said biting her lip. If Artie even suspected that Helena was touching his car, he would have a heart attack.

"There we go," HG said making child's play of the specialized lock that Artie had installed for several hundred dollars. The man at the dealership asked Artie if he was concerned about kids getting into the engine because very few people actually bought the additional lock – ever. "Just one," Artie answered.

The lock was incapacitated and the hood was opened and Myka had not seen that look on anyone's face since Leena brought home Krispy Kreme donuts for Pete. HG touched the various plugs and connections looking for something that might cause the problem. "Do the lights work?" she asked and Myka leaned in and turned them on. "Not the battery," HG said when they did.

"OK Myka, go in and try it now," HG instructed pushing down on the alternator cap. Myka was torn between doing what HG asked and not leaving her under that hood. If anything went wrong, she would have to tell Artie. Reading her hesitation adeptly, HG looked at Myka. "I'm not going to dismantle it, darling." Myka returned to the car and turned the key. The car turned over and Myka let out of yell of relief. "YES!" she yelled but the engine cut off. "What?" she asked in disbelief. "What happened?" she shouted over. HG came to the side of the hood and leaned over into the engine. Myka could only see the bottom half of her partner now and became completely distracted. No one wore spandex bicycle shorts quite the way Helena did.

She was busy staring at the tempting form that was bent over before her - so didn't hear HG yell from under the hood. Finally the Brit stood up. "Are you listening darling?" HG asked wondering what had caught Myka's attention to cause such distraction. A minute ago she was in full fledge panic. "What? Oh sorry, Hel," Myka said composing herself. "Turn it on again and then give it a little gas, ok love?" HG asked and Myka shook her head, waiting for the vision to reappear.

The sight of Danny Sullivan being so suave with HG and his overt attempt to impress her by offering to let her drive his car came back into Myka's head. '_I bet he would like nothing more than to see her hands on his stick shift_,' Myka said under her breath as she leaned over the side of the door and to get a better look at HG's shape again. Myka jumped when HG suddenly reappeared. "Myka, are you ok? You are not listening at all," HG complained unaware of fight going on in Myka's head.

"Yes, sorry," she said embarrassed for her voyeurism. She started the engine again and heard HG yell, 'Now give it a little gas," - just as the smile on Danny's face reappeared in her mind. She pressed her foot on the gas but her body was really stamping out that image …. Or literally putting her foot down….. But whatever it was, she revved the engine up and grease from the engine shot up all over HG.

"Sounds good Hel," Myka said. But the next sight was her friend literally covered in oil from her forehead to her chest. How did HG do that? She wondered unaware that her own action was in fact what had caused it.

Helena closed the hood, walked slowly over to the passenger side and grabbed her tank top. She wiped her face and mouth before she spoke. "Myka Bering, it seems obvious to me that you have no idea what '_give it a little gas'_ means," HG said looking down at herself.

"Sorry," Myka said realizing what she had done.

"Well, I'm either walking back to the B&B ….," HG said leaning over the door smiling wickedly at the driver, "Or I'm going back with you…. naked."

* * *

Danny Sullivan drove back to Univille at neck breaking speed. His fabricated chance encounter with Helena had been exactly as he had hoped. So she _was_ the great-great granddaughter of HG Wells! And she hadn't exactly denied that someone might have helped the author with his stories. Twice she used the pronoun _'she'_ when referring to the author. Was that her Freudian slip about his sister? He wondered if HG Wells…or someone else…. had actually ever built those machines. He was headed back to his computer to do more research.

And why had she mentioned that story about Jules Verne and his nephew? He would check into that, too. Danny never saw the black Lincoln Town car parked on the side of the road as he passed it - going well above the speed limit.

* * *

"Get Ms. Donovan on the phone please," Mrs. Frederic said to her driver.

Claudia's sleepy voice came over the speaker in the back seat. "Hello?" she said not looking at the number.

"Ms. Donavan?" the Sage asked because the voice sounded muffled. Claudia removed the pillow over her head and shot up in bed like an arrow. "Yes?"

"Ms. Donovan, we need to make sure that every research source available to the public lists a family tree for Charles Wells as having a great-great granddaughter named Helena. Can you verify that for me immediately?" Mrs. Frederic said.

"On it boss lady. I mean sir. I mean, yes ma'am. Doing it right now," Claudia said closing the phone and jumping on her laptop.

"I certainly hope Agent Wells has not exposed herself," Mrs. Frederic said to no one.

* * *

**Love your comments/feedback and appreciate when you send them. Cheers,**


	6. Wilde about Helena

**Chapter 6 _Wilde_ about Helena**

Claudia flew out of the house so fast that even Artie took note as he peeked over the top of the newspaper. "Gotta go to the Warehouse…," is what he heard and he was going to suggest she wait for him because Myka was due back any minute now. But that thought made him look at his watch and now he realized that the peace and quiet of the house had distracted him and Myka should have been back already. Even if HG had run ten miles from the house, and he doubted she could be quiet for that distance, Myka should have been able to find her and bring her back by now. "_No good deed goes unpunished- _Oscar Wilde said," he mumbled out loud as he started to pace in front of the picture window. "This is why I never give anyone the car!" he said when Pete walked in.

"Oh is Mykes M-I-A with your J-a-g," Pete said laughing at his own joke and then sucked it back in when he saw the expression on Artie's face.

"I'm sure they'll be back any…," Pete said trying to put his mind at ease. "Unless HG talked Myka …you know…. Into ….. I mean, she can pretty much talk Myka into anything….," he said and caused Artie's blood pressure to shoot up.

* * *

The delay in getting back was due to the wardrobe malfunction. Myka could not let Helena back in the car with the oil stained tank top or sports bra. Helena was all too eager to remove both offensive items and as tempting an offer as that might have been, Myka could not chance Artie having the heart attack that someone was riding in his car naked. She got out of the car and looked around. "Helena, come here," she yelled as she walked into the nearby woods. "Darling, do you really think you should leave the engine running while we.… I mean, this could take a little time …..considering where we are and all," the Brit said completely misunderstanding Myka's intent. Any other time maybe Myka could have been talked into a tryst in the woods – although she would have obsessed over the ticks – but not today while she was in the possession of Artie's car.

"Helena!" she yelled and HG jumped. "I don't think I've ever seen you so romantic - outdoors, Myka. I must say I rather like this side…." HG was saying as she walked to the wooded area where Myka stood. "Take that off," Myka ordered HG and she had it up over her head before the end of that sentence. She liked _forceful Myka_. Myka was frantically taking off her jersey top, exposing the bright pink sports bra underneath. "You really are in the mood...," HG said but got hit with the jersey in the face. "Put that on," Myka said anxiously. HG held it to her bare chest. "Myka darling, I think you've got it backwards. This works best if we're both _without_ clothes," HG smiled devilishly. "What? No, Helena. No, put it _on_. We're not … here? Good God, Helena - no. I have to get the car back," Myka said peeking out from the trees hoping no one was on the side road. "Why didn't I pick the white one," Myka said about her undergarment choice as she made a run for the driver's seat. Helena stood there – dejected. She slowly looked around as if the answer to how that had all just happened would be there. "Helena!" she heard her name yelled again and put the jersey on and walked to the car.

"You will pay for this later, Myka Bering, I promise you that," she said under her breath.

* * *

As Claudia sat in the Warehouse office with several programs running checking every database she could think of, Danny Sullivan was twenty miles away in his office at the newspaper, doing the same thing. His boss asked what he was doing there after asking for the day off and he muttered something about following up a lead and that was it. He looked at his Blackberry where he had written down things Helena had said to him. He searched for the Wells family tree a few seconds behind the tech wiz at the Warehouse. When HG was reinstated, the Regents took care of creating her history to close the obvious gaps. Claudia was in charge of a lot of it. She created the branches on the Wells family tree that would connect HG to her brother but in a very different lineage. Now Charles had to be her great-great grandfather and not her sibling. Or, as Claudia put it, Helena was being cloned into the present. Claudia checked every database that she could find and all seemed in order. She called Mrs. Frederic on the Farnsworth.

"She's where she's supposed to be," she said to the image on the screen.

"Keep checking," the Sage said before closing the device and cutting Claudia off.

"Good job, Claudia. Glad you got right on that. Appreciate you giving up your Saturday. Oh sure, no problem Mrs. F. Anything for you oh great Warehouse Keeper," Claudia said in a low voice and then quickly looked around. She may have been annoyed but she wasn't stupid.

* * *

There was no doubt that Claudia Donovan was the electronic wizard of the Warehouse who knew how to hack through any firewall to check on the information she needed. She had the advantage over Danny Sullivan because she had already been to the sites that listed HG Wells in any capacity. But Danny's advantage was that he had spoken to Helena – and she had given him clues that Claudia had no way of knowing about. While the young agent was verifying that HG Wells had an ancestry, the reporter was checking out the archives at the Royal College of Science – where HG Wells attended. How, Danny wondered did a man who got '_gentlemen C's_' at the prestigious college come up with these wild ideas. He reflected back to Helena's misuse of the pronoun – at least twice she referred to HG Wells as 'she'.

Danny searched for anything that he could find on HG Wells' sister. There seemed to be very little. Then he remembered how HG had segued into Jules Verne being shot by his nephew. He checked the databases on Verne and buried in an obscure paper were the sketchy details of the incident. What was mentioned was the hospital in Paris where Verne was taken after the incident. The paper had a picture of Verne in the hospital with a '_friend_' who looked a lot like HG Wells' sister. He found a biography done years before by a professor at Harvard who theorized that Verne was having an affair with HG Wells' sister and that she was only doing so to keep her brother abreast of the French author's next story. The theory was widely disputed at the time it was published thirty years ago. But the professor had done his work and at least had proof of the _Verne – Helena Wells'_ connection including some letters that were in the Verne archives. A police report about the incident listed '_love triangle'_ as the reason Gaston Verne shot his uncle - twice! The first bullet missed, but the second hit Jules in the leg. The book claimed that Helena Wells was romantically involved with both uncle and nephew and when the younger Verne found out, he went crazy and tried to kill the older lover. The nephew was sent away to an asylum for the insane and Helena returned to London once Jules was released from the hospital.

Other people in the newspaper room watched as Danny Sullivan scribbled notes and clicked on screens on his computer. His boss secretly hoped he was working on the headline for Sunday but knew not to bother Danny when he was like this. Danny pushed his hat to the back of his head and looked up at the ceiling. If Wells' sister was the genius – he needed more information on her. Where could he find out about a woman of that time? He could think of only one place – the society pages. Who was in London around that time he wondered and went back to the computer. He searched the London papers and saw picture after picture of Oscar Wilde who was spending the same summer there. He started to research Oscar Wilde and came upon something no one had ever connected before.

* * *

Claudia's second call to the Warehouse Keeper was done with a little trepidation. "I checked everything and she's where she's supposed to be. Even Ancestry dot com has her lineage in place," the young woman reported.

"Can you track someone's searches?" her boss asked.

"Do bears shi….yes, of course. Throw it at me," Claudia said trying to find the words you were supposed to use with a woman who could disintegrate you with her stare.

"I need you to track where a reporter at the Univille Tribune is searching," Mrs. Frederic said.

"You mean that really cute guy with the hat?" Claudia said recalling him from the art gallery.

"Danny Sullivan," Mrs. Frederic said not interested in whether or not she found him good looking.

"On it," Claudia said and again there was the abrupt cutoff. '_She really needs to learn how to say goodbye_,' she said to herself. But this was the kind of assignment Claudia loved – mysterious mission with permission for hacking? It didn't get better than that.

* * *

Pete went outside with Artie when he realized his breathing was on the verge of hyperventilating. "Artie, you know Mykes - there's no one more responsible than she is. I'm sure everything is fine," Pete said in an attempt to calm his boss.

The roar of the Jag's engine announced their return and Artie stood out in the driveway to make sure that it was Myka behind the wheel. Myka pulled up slowly and parked the car as Artie ran to it. He didn't say a word but walked around the outside looking for anything that might have happened to it. Pete stepped in front of driver's side, preventing Myka from getting out.

"Nice outfit, Mykes," he said looking down at his partner. Then he shifted his gaze over to HG in the passenger's seat. "Did you get cold with the top down?" Pete asked letting Myka know he knew this was not the state of dress she left in.

"Pete, let me out," Myka demanded but Pete wasn't budging. He had an hour before the game with nothing to do – so teasing the life out of Myka was a perfect fit.

"Now I've been known for my keen attention to detail, Agent Bering," he lied. "And if I remember correctly ….and believe me, I do….. you left before in something that looked amazingly like the top that Agent Wells is wearing. This color- I would remember," he said looking at the bright pink. A similar color was rising in Myka's cheeks. She would have pushed Pete out of the way but didn't want Artie to lose his focus on the car.

"Agent Wells, is there anything you can tell us to clear up this wardrobe switcheroo phenomenon?" Pete said as he leaned on the door preventing Myka from getting out.

"She wouldn't let me go topless," HG said smiling devilishly not intimidated by the bantering. Now Myka's cheeks were bright red and she pushed Pete out of the way with the door. "Here you go Artie," she said as she handed him back the keys.

"Everything looks okay. Everything is okay, right Myka?" he asked nervously not taking note of the brightly clad agent.

"Yes Artie, everything is fine. Thanks for lending it to me," Myka said not looking him in the eye. HG got out of the car holding her stained clothes in front of her. Myka looked at HG and jerked her head in the direction of the nervous car owner.

"Oh yes," HG said picking up on Myka's not so subtle hint. "Thank you, Artie for the ride in your magnificent machine," HG said but Artie just nodded his head.

"She was running ok?" Artie pressed because he thought the engine sounded different when Myka pulled up. "She sounded different," Artie said looking at the inside of the car. Even at forty paces, he knew the sound of that engine.

Myka did not lie and so now she hesitated how to answer her boss. "She's running fine now," she decided on but Artie caught it. "_Now_? What does that mean? She wasn't running fine before?" he said blocking Myka's entrance to the B&B.

"We had … a little trouble starting her up but she's fine now. Runs like a dream," Myka said as she tried to side step him but he was not letting her go.

"No, no – no, tell me she didn't …. I mean it started right. She didn't need to ….," he said as he looked at the car and then Helena.

HG was in no mood for this. First, she had been verbally stifled with Danny Sullivan and then worse - amorously cut off by Myka. She had held back enough for one day. "Your magnificent machine there, Artie, was having a bit of engine trouble so yes; '_she_' had to repair it. But rest assured, nothing was touched other than what was necessary to fix it," HG said walking past him.

"But the lock?" Artie said looking back at the car. HG stopped in her tracks and let out a laugh.

"Really Artie? Did you think a three hundred dollar lock was any match for my mind ….and a paperclip? You should get your money back, " HG said sounding every bit as smug as she intended. She turned in disgust and went into the house.

"This is ridiculous. A total stranger can entertain that the real HG Wells was a woman but my own boss, who knows bloody well who I am, thinks a semi-sophisticated padlock - made in China no less - can keep me out of his engine that if I wanted to, could dismantle and rebuild before his heart attack set in," HG huffed upstairs.

"She … is….. really good with eh cars, Artie," Myka tried.

Artie turned before he said something he might regret to Myka. He wished he could have said it to the arrogant Brit but she was in the house.

"This is why I don't lend it out," he said to Pete as he huffed past him.

"That color goes good with the one in your face now, Mykes," Pete said and Myka punched him – hard.

* * *

"Now where are you going, Mr. Cool Hat with the dimpled smile?" Claudia said as she watched keystrokes appear on her screen. She got behind the newspaper firewall with the same ease HG had gotten into the Jaguar's engine. She watched intently as the same screen that appeared on Danny's desktop appeared on hers. "What the heck?" Claudia said as the page from an old diary appeared. "Who the frack is _OW_?" she wondered out loud. She leaned into her computer to read the writing at the same time as Danny was leaning into his.

Simultaneously they read: "_Charles is an idiot not to share the credit with the real brains behind these stories. I have spoken to him about it but he is as thickheaded as some of his books. The real HG deserves the recognition for her works. Who in their right mind would think Charles capable of inventing a real time machine? London is full of fools. And God bless HG – she will not give up her romantic attempts on me - in spite of making it very clear to her. She is stubborn! Tomorrow she wants to show me something she invented called a rocket."_

"Holy crap," the two of them said as the both sat back in their chairs – miles apart from one another.

* * *

Thank you to Ariel Hedgehog who tried her hardest to make me keep this as historically accurate as possible (time, places, events, people).  
In spite of that, I took every liberty to make the story fit as best I could. Thanks for your feedback - what do you  
think of our young reporter?


	7. Perfect Match

Sorry for the delay - thanks for hanging in there.

* * *

**Chapter 7 Perfect Match**

Danny looked down at his notes. Was it possible that he was on the verge of finding the proof that would irrevocably change the title '_Father of Science Fiction_' to '_Mother of Science Fiction'_? What would that do to the literary world? And how was it no one suspected this before? He looked at the plaque his sister had given him for his desk; "_When __you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, __however improbable__, must be the truth_" Sherlock Holmes. Danny's gut told him it was impossible that Charles Wells, under the pen name of HG Wells, was capable of the creative ideas in those stores. And consciously or unconsciously, Helena Wells- the IRS Agent - had given him the impetus to uncover this truth. Why didn't she just do it? It was, after all Danny believed her ancestry.

Danny knew he needed one more thing – he needed to verify his source. He called over to the photographer who had accompanied him to the Steampunk exhibition and ask her to show him the pictures she took. He knew she was snapping pictures when Helena was going on her tirade and there were plenty to choose from – from every angle. "Email me copies of these, Megan," he said choosing from among the ones with his subject in them.

Katie Sullivan was a seventeen year old computer whiz whose company Claudia Donovan would have enjoyed if their paths ever crossed. Katie had developed her own version of facial recognition software that could be used on social networks. She had just completed her college applications and her essay was on the uses of the program that she had developed. Katie wrote about the controversial aspect of the software and the dangers that it could present in terms of profiling and that aspect is what caught the attention of Yale's Admissions Committee. They saw it as a programming genius with a social conscience and her application was on its way to the second round. The problem was that the Sullivan's family income placed them in the tiny sliver of a bracket that earned them very little financial aid and this meant they'd have to foot the very expensive tuition bill with their life savings if Katie got into a top tier school. Danny assured Katie they'd find another way – he believed in his sister and knew her dream of becoming an entrepreneur had to happen. He thought if his work got him to the _New York Times_ that would help pay her tuition bills. It just wasn't coming together as fast as Danny hoped.

"I thought I might find you here," Katie said coming up behind her brother as he looked at the pictures laid out on his desk. "Pretty girl – gotta date?" she asked her older brother.

"What are you doing here?" he asked glad to see a friendly face.

"Checking up on you," Katie teased him back. Then she looked down at the pictures. "What had her so upset?" she asked looking down at the facial expressions of Helena mid rant.

"She didn't like the Steampunk exhibition," Danny laughed. "Do you think these women look alike?" he asked Katie showing her the blurry image on his IPad and the pictures of Helena. "Why do you care?" Katie asked already assessing the profiles. She knew what to look for when comparing pictures of people. "I'm wondering if they're related," Danny said staring at the face of the woman who had captivated him that morning. The pictures did not do her justice especially her dark eyes that flashed with emotion when she spoke.

"They're not related," Katie said touching the picture of Helena.

"No, kiddo – I'm pretty sure they are. This is the great-great granddaughter of this woman's brother," Danny said pointing to HG's picture and the newspaper picture.

"No – _kiddo_," Katie teased her brother. "They are the same person."

"No – sorry – impossible. This is a picture of a woman in 1890 and this was taken the other night," Danny said trying to tickle his sister. He liked proving her wrong – it was so rare.

"Wanna bet? I can prove it – and when I do - you have to stay out of the living room the next time a guy comes over," Katie said. "Email me those pictures," she said and pulled her laptop out of her backpack. A few minutes later, Danny had emailed her the scans of the pictures and let her alone to do her work.

* * *

Helena regretted her tone with Artie. It was, after all, a very nice gesture on his part to let Myka take his car. Damn her temper! She didn't mean to take it out on the man who understood her the least. But between Danny's probing and Myka's mixed messages – she had caught Myka eyeing her up and down as she was protruding over the hood – she was in no mood for Artie's overreaction to her touching his precious machine. She scrubbed her hair in the shower as she planned on how she would apologize – because of course, Myka would expect her to. And besides – maybe it was really Myka she was upset with. 'Take that off, put this on,' HG said out loud to herself confirming that Myka's messages were indeed confusing. She thought back to how happy she was to see Myka driving up in the car. Not just because it wasn't Artie but because she stopped HG from saying any more than she should have. What was she thinking even hinting to a reporter that Charles was not the author? This man was clever – not as clever as he thought but HG allowed him that. He simply had no way of knowing who he was up against. As tempting as it might have been to have someone be right about HG Wells, it was not to be -Helena sighed. Now where was Myka Bering? She had a score to settle with that woman.

* * *

Claudia was watching the computer screen but there was little activity now. "He's probably at lunch," she said out loud and then realized she was starving. Artie had come back but said very little as he grumbled past her and went in the storage room. She watched the screen as Danny's email showed activity. He was sending attachments to someone named . Claudia accessed the attachment and saw two pictures of Helena. "This can't be good," Claudia said as she looked at the date of the newspaper. "Mrs. Frederic, we've got a problem," the computer tracker said into the Farnsworth.

* * *

Myka had escaped to her room as soon as she could to get changed. Pete would not let her hear the end of this and she knew it. "You're in the _pink _today, Mykes. I hope you don't get a _pink_ slip for letting HG touch the Jag." She went into the bathroom to wash her face and comb her hair and when she came out, HG was sitting there on her bed.

"Helena! Geez, you scared me," Myka said grasping her chest. "Hmmm," HG said as she slipped her hand over Myka's heart and pressed down. "You're right – it's beating very fast. Want to see me make it go faster?" HG asked looking up at Myka. "Let's get that loud sports bra off you," HG said. "You think this is loud?" Myka asked laughing at HG's hand moving underneath it. "Why darling, it's just screaming _take me off,_" HG said as she playfully released Myka from it. If there was anything Helena expected to hear it was not Pete knocking on Myka's door.

"Ah Myka?" he said in an unsteady voice.

"I will hurt him," the Brit said only half kidding in a threatening tone. She refused to be interrupted one more time that day. But Myka could sense the hesitancy in his voice and it had nothing to do with worrying about HG's response. She gently pushed HG aside – an action that did not sit well with the Brit – and grabbed her robe and put it on.

"Pete?" she said as she opened the door and looked at the expression on his face.

"Mrs. Frederic is downstairs to see HG – and she is not happy, Mykes," he said. "Not-happy-at-all."

"Because she touched Artie's car?" Myka asked but Pete shrugged his shoulders.

Myka turned to Helena who didn't care if the Queen was downstairs. She walked over to the door and pulled if further open. "Pete, could you give me just a minute here," she said pulling Myka back in.

"But HG, she's really pissed," Pete whispered grimacing.

He was given very explicit instructions to '_get Agent Wells now_' and in none too pleasant a tone and he was not going back down without her. He put his foot in the door and Helena glared at him from the foot all the way up to his face. Given the choice between pleasing the Brit with the terrible temper or Mrs. Frederic who could freak him out like no other, he was going with pleasing his boss.

Myka went inside, grabbed appropriate clothing and went into the bathroom to get dressed. She got that Pete really meant it. Now HG was sandwiched between her friends who were indicating she had to go downstairs. She let Pete lead the way but before she descended the steps, she turned quickly to face Myka, her face filled with fury over the latest interruption.

"I promise you Myka Bering when I am done with Mrs. Frederic, I am returning to that bedroom and I will not let anything nor anyone stop me from having what I want. The day's events – and _you _- have tested me beyond my patience and I intend to rectify that," HG said with a salacious smile counting on Myka's firm grasp of the language of love.

Then she leaned into Myka and whispered in her ear; "Si tu crois que Madame Frederic va crier parce que j'ai touché la voiture d'Artie, attend qu'elle t'entende crier parce que je te touche..."

("If you think Mrs. Frederic is going to scream loudly about touching Artie's car, wait until she hears you scream when I am touching you..." )

Myka stood there speechless. Only HG could make a promise like that while being summoned by her boss; her very upset boss.

* * *

Thank you to Ariel Hedgehog for giving HG perfect French!  
As always - I do appreciate your comments ...esp since there was such a long BREAK between chapters.


	8. About Face

It would seem for now, I have lost my 'editor' so I do hope this  
chapter follows the others well. As always, I welcome your comments/feedback and  
suggestions - - - any and all. Thanks.

* * *

**Chapter 8 About Face**

When the Regents had previously informed Mrs. Frederic that HG was being reinstated to the Warehouse, she felt confident that they had done everything that needed to be done to make sure this was a wise decision. She never second guessed the powers that be. But she had hoped to avoid involving them in this incident but it was unavoidable. Once Claudia explained to her that Danny Sullivan was not just connecting the imaginary dots they had planted in HG's reinstatement, he was uncovering the truth – Mrs. Frederic knew this had to go up the Warehouse hierarchy. And she worried for Helena what would come back down when they took into account her part in all of this. Involving civilians in anything was risky and greatly discouraged and that was when it was unavoidable. What Helena managed to do was involve a civilian and hand him the keys and the road map to uncovering a major discovery. Helena had no way of knowing that up until now, Mrs. Frederic had been her staunchest supporter.

Mrs. Frederic was waiting in the hallway downstairs and Myka was certain that she had never seen this look on the woman before. It was so cold that it stopped Myka in her tracks. Mrs. Frederic was tough but never unfair. Surely this was a little over the top for fixing Artie's car. And why hadn't Artie just exploded? Did her really need to call in the big guns over this?

Claudia burst through the door with her laptop. She had hoped to get there before the Sage to give everyone a head's up but beating Mrs. F anywhere was impossible. Artie would have been there sooner but he listened so intently to the car on the way over, that it took him twice as long. Now they all stood there in the hallway – no one saying anything until Pete looked at Artie.

"Artie? Really? Over the car?" Pete asked annoyed that this whole thing was already interrupting his baseball game on TV.

"What? No! It's not over the car," Artie said defensively although he secretly wondered if he could work it into the meeting. All he knew was that Mrs. Frederic was having a meeting of the utmost urgency. Myka's mind was racing – if it wasn't about the car then what could it be over?

Mrs. Frederic led them all into the dining room and when Artie went to take his usual spot at the head of the table, she stopped and looked at him. He jumped up and sat next to her.

"Agent Wells, I have allowed your fellow agents to attend this meeting," Mrs. Frederic said as Claudia tried to convey what this was about to Myka through her facial expressions. Myka was close to imitating the movements when she caught sight of the look on HG's face.

"I would like to know, Agent Wells if it was the - literary community, - the science community, or the - entire United States government that you intended to set on its heels by allowing a civilian to gain information from you that could expose anyone of those things and cause irrevocable damage?" Mrs. Frederic asked Helena who sat down at the other end of the table.

"OK, so not the car," Pete said.

"Pardon me?" Helena asked from her chair.

"By allowing the reporter from the Univille Tribune to interview you, you directly and indirectly gave him information that has sent him on a chase that could uncover your past, Agent Wells," Mrs. Frederic said plainly.

"Surely you're mistaken," the Brit said and not one person at that table didn't bow their heads at her misspoken words. Myka bit her lower lip and HG knew immediately that Myka's heart was pounding. She stopped looking long enough at Myka's pulse in her neck to look back at her boss whose intense stare caught HG by surprise. "I may have hinted to him that HG Wells had some help with his stories but nothing more than that."

"Agent Wells, share with us what you know about facial recognition software programs," Mrs. Frederic said and now Claudia's stomach started to knot.

"Well, I believe you are referring to the sophisticated software developed by using algorithms that use measurements of the distance between the eyes, the width of the nose, the depth of the eye sockets, the shape of the cheekbone and the length of the jaw line in an attempt to identify individuals for security or business purposes. It typically has a sixty percent accuracy rate," HG answered in her _Wellsipidia_ voice.

"Ms. Donavan, would you share with Agent Wells what a 17 year old computer wizard has developed as her _high school_ project?" Mrs. Frederic called on the young woman who really had hoped she would not be asked to participate.

"Well, uhm HG - a girl at Univille High School has created a facial detection program that is able to match individuals from pictures with about a 93 percent accuracy. It's actually pretty cool the way she added ….," Claudia said not looking at HG.

"Marvelous," HG said wondering why she should be impressed.

"Do you know who this young woman is, Agent Wells?" Mrs. Frederic asked knowing the answer.

"How the bloody hell….. I mean, no ma'am, I do not," HG said taking a long overdue deep breath.

"Agent Wells, when that reporter surreptitiously crossed paths with you this morning, he was seeking information. And he was doing that because of the display you made at the gallery opening last night," Mrs. Frederic said never breaking her gaze with HG.

"Now, Mrs. Frederic, I am glad to see that we are getting to the heart of the matter," HG said and Myka had a feeling HG's _heart of the matter_ was nowhere near Mrs. Frederic's.

Myka couldn't help it – she had to do something so she tried to nudge her partner under the table. HG moved her foot. Myka tried to tap it again while crossing her arms and again, HG moved out of her way. She really needed to review the finer art of being subtle with her.

"You see my response was well founded…..," HG started to explain but Mrs. Frederic put her hand up to stop her and, thankfully Myka thought, HG picked up on what that meant.

"Ms. Donovan," the Warehouse Keeper said and pointed to her laptop. Claudia pressed a few keys and up on the screen popped the two pictures of HG; one from the 1890 newspaper and one from the gallery exhibit. Flashing on the bottom in a rectangular box in red letters was the word 'Match' flashing over and over.

"Oh bloody hell," HG said finally grasping what was going on.

"It would seem our high school programmer - also known as Danny Sullivan's younger sibling, Agent Wells, had identified you as one and the same in those pictures. Now let's add that to what you already told this man and I believe you will see that this adds up to a great deal of trouble," Mrs. Frederic said.

"Oh crap!" Pete said confirming that he knew it was a big deal.

"Is there any way of knowing what he will do with this information?" Myka asked already working on the solutions.

"Yes, I believe he's looking to sell the story to the _New York Times_ in hopes of getting hired there," Mrs. Frederic said. "Ms. Wells, not only has he connected that the real author of the HG Wells books was his sister, Helena – which I believe he found by following the breadcrumbs you dropped for him – he has uncovered a diary by Oscar Wilde which confirms that Charles was wrong not to give the _true_ writer the credit and that _she_ was going to show him the rocket she built," Mrs. Frederic said laying the depth of the problem out. "This probably would have been enough to get him to the New York Times – and the US Government would not have been involved with the upheaval in the literary world. But Ms. Sullivan put the two pictures together for her brother – probably to test his theory that you were in fact related to the late HG Wells and voila!"

"Is there any way we can get in to her program – disrupt it or change the pictures?" Pete asked and it was their own tech wiz who answered.

"The program is solid – and there's little we can do to disrupt the software package. There are copies of it out there so messing with her computer won't do it. She uses an additional component that measures ears. Apparently our ears are very unique. So even if we messed with the photo, they could get another one from either time period."

"Plastic surgery!" Pete yelled out snapping his fingers and pointing to the Brit. If they couldn't change the pictures, change HG!

"Pete! What are you suggesting that, that HG go in and have her ears done?" Myka said in horror.

"It's been considered by the Regents," Mrs. Frederic said and now they realized they were not the first ones she consulted on this matter. Helena held back on the 'no bloody way' but it was written all over her face.

"Don't worry Agent Wells it wasn't your ears they suggested. It was your lips," Mrs. Frederic said, zipping her own lips shut but stone faced in spite of the humor in that statement.

Helena Wells never met a man that she could not convince of anything. In her mind, too much was being made out of this and the simple solution was she would meet with Danny Sullivan. "I think I should meet with Mr. Sullivan," HG finally said from the end of the table.

Artie was the first to react to that. "Maybe you want to give him a tour of the Warehouse and show him where you were bronzed," he said sarcastically.

"Don't be ridiculous, Artie. I will explain to Mr. Sullivan that his endeavor to uncover these links is not in his best interest," HG said simply as if that is all it would take.

"My concern Agent Wells is that your simplistic solution might be an indication of how little you are grasping the gravity of this situation," Mrs. Frederic said and again, HG could not help her reaction.

"I can do very complicated things - simply, Mrs. Frederic. That does not make them simplistic," HG retorted because her ego did not allow dispersions to be cast on her ability to convince people to do something.

Those words flew down the table past the people who all knew better than to speak to Mrs. Frederic in that tone. Even Artie thought 'this is it' because the Brit had crossed a line. Myka braced for what she thought would be some very harsh words from the Keeper but instead she heard;

"Alright, Agent Wells. You will have your chance to demonstrate your skills at cleaning up this mess you have created single handedly. You will be given one chance to speak to Mr. Sullivan. If the issue is not resolved at the end of that time, we will take the matter into our own hands and deal with it," Mrs. Frederic said.

"Fine," Helena said because she believed it would be that simple.

"You can meet with him now," Mrs. Frederic said as she got up from the table and no one else moved. "Oh, and Agent Wells?" she said from the doorway.

"Yes?" HG asked looking up.

"Je crois que l'énergie que vous prévoyiez dépenser à l'étage après cette rencontre serait plus utile à régler votre problem," the Sage said in perfect French. ("_Perhaps any energy you were going to expend upstairs after this meeting could be put to better use in fixing this mess_.")

Myka fell back in her chair and threw her head into her hands. HG looked at her boss, stunned. "But I …. I whispered that …. to Myka," Helena said.

"When it comes to Agent Bering - your heart does not speak softly, Agent Wells," Mrs. Frederic said slowly.

HG looked back at Myka to explain how this could have happened. Myka's face was flushed with red and her mouth was opened, but there were no words.

* * *

Thanks again for taking the time to review! Best,


	9. The 7 Percent Solution

**Chapter 9 The 7 % Solution**

Thrown just a little by Mrs. Frederic's remark to her in French, HG followed the Sage to the front hallway.

"I am assuming that you will have _Plan B_ ready, Agent Wells if this does not go as you are predicting?" her boss asked.

HG never had _Plan B_ because when it came to being alone with a man in a room in order to get what she wanted, she never ever needed a _Plan B._ And that showed in her expression.

"No of course you don't," Mrs. Frederic said reading her agent correctly.

Myka walked over to HG and touched her hand. "Sweetie," she whispered, "we need to have a backup if .. you know….," Myka said hoping she would not have to complete that sentence.

"Myka darling, please keep in mind Ms. Sullivan's program has only a 93 percent precision rate – where as I have a one hundred percent accuracy rate," HG smiled devilishly.

Myka thought over what HG had just said.

"Helena, remember when you speak to him - 38 percent of your message is conveyed through the _tone _of your voice; your _words_ are only seven percent and _your body language_, Hel accounts for 55 percent of your message. Make it count," Myka said and she meant -_don't speak sarcastically _or_ say bloody hell over and over again_. Myka meant - _appear friendly not threatening_ as she knew HG could be when challenged.

Myka thought HG would understand her intent but Helena was too busy doing the math. "Myka, you are bloody brilliant," HG said grabbing Myka's arms.

"What?" Myka said unsure of what HG was referring to.

"You're brilliant. Ninety three percent, Myka. Now, you trust me yes?" HG said leaning into Myka and looking into those green orbs.

"Helena, what are you talking about? Yes, of course…," Myka said trying to clear things up.

"Good," HG said releasing her. She smiled broadly at Mrs. Frederic who told her Danny Sullivan was in the office waiting for her.

* * *

One minute Danny was looking at his computer with the split screen of two images with the blinking 'Match' confirmation and the next his sister was yelling – "Yes! You stay out of the living room tonight when Charlie comes over."

"No, Katie look this isn't possible. You've made a mistake. This picture is from a newspaper from 1890 and this is a picture from the other night. That isn't possible," he said looking at the images.

"Yeah, I know you would think so dude but my program is very accurate. I can't explain how it is but I'm just telling you these two women are exactly the same," she said victoriously. "Well, I can explain how the program decided it was the same woman, but I don't know how to explain the time line."

"_Very_ accurate is not 100% accurate," he pointed out as he pulled the screen in closer to survey the details. "Katie, it's not possible. Relatives yes - but these women are separated in time by one hundred years," he pointed out.

"HG Wells' sister, right? So maybe he really did build a time machine and he stuck his sister in it and sent her here. I know if I had a time machine, I'd stick you in it," Katie laughed.

"So you're telling me that you think this woman, HG Wells' sister from 1890 is the same woman who was in this photograph?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes I am. Of course, you'd need DNA to prove it absolutely but my program is the closest thing you're going to get without swabbing the mouth of this one," Katie said tapping the picture of HG. "Or maybe you really do want to swap spit with her?" she said laughing at the expression on her brother's face.

Danny Sullivan ran his fingers through his thick hair and held his head. This did not make sense to him. He kept thinking back to what Helena had said to him.

"_The bloody genius did not just conjure up the seminal phrase Mr. Sullivan; she bloody invented the machine to back it up!" HG said._

Then he asked her specifically if she was telling him that someone built a time machine but she denied it. Danny looked down at his notes of things Helena had said to him.

"_They should not be allowed to mix up one man's fantasy with another woman's genius."_

When he showed her the picture on his IPad and asked her - _"Is this the person who really wrote those stories and dreamt up the machines?"_ - he was certain her expression as she looked at that picture was sadness.

Helena had confirmed she was Wells' descendant. But now Katie's program was confusing the hell out of him. How would he confirm which theory was right? Writing a story for the paper that HG Wells had help writing some of the greatest novels of all time was one thing. Writing a story that his helper was somehow here in the 21st Century needed confirmation. Only one person could confirm this and he had to go back to see her. He told Katie he had to go somewhere and helped her pack up her stuff. "I need you to come with me to meet the only one who can explain this," he said and with that they were off. He had a few hours before the deadline for Sunday's paper. He took Katie in his car and headed back to the B&B.

The detour on the road outside of town that was not there this morning surprised Danny but he turned down the side road as the yellow sign instructed. That's when he saw the black Crown Victoria car sitting in the middle of the road – as if it had been waiting for him. He was about to go in reverse when the black sedan came up behind him, boxing him in. He panicked for Katie and then saw the middle aged black woman get out of the back of the car. She walked slowly over to his car and although he felt less threatened, his heart was still pounding.

"What the hell is this?" Katie asked as she swung around looking at the cars.

"I don't know but don't say anything," he said trying to sound less nervous than he was.

"Mr. Sullivan?" Mrs. Frederic said smiling a smile none of the agents had ever seen her use. So this is how she interacted with the public.

Danny smiled but didn't extend his hand. He was too hyper now and had his hand near his lap in case he had to pull Katie from the car.

"My name is Mrs. Frederic, Mr. Sullivan and I would very much like to talk to you," the Sage said calmly.

"What about?" Danny said.

"Your future, Mr. Sullivan and that of your sister, Katie," Mrs. Frederic said.

"Are you with Yale Admissions?" he asked.

"We have been known to work with them," the older woman said and indicated for them to join her in the car.

"Let's go Danny," Katie said unstrapped and out of the car. This girl was up for any adventure. She didn't buy for a minute that these people were with Yale but she wanted to find out who they were. Danny unstrapped and got out since his impulsive sister left him no other choice.

"Please bring your backpacks," Mrs. Frederic instructed and now they both new this had something to do with their research. Danny looked around to see if he could see Helena in the sedan but he could only make out a man behind the wheel. He walked to the black car that Mrs. Frederic had already entered and the driver held the door open for them to get in.

"Who are you exactly, Mrs. Frederic?" Danny asked and saw the broad grin appear on the woman's face.

"I am exactly who I said I was, Mr. Sullivan," she answered. In minutes, they arrived at the B&B and Mrs. Frederic asked Danny and his sister to please excuse her but she needed to go into the house. She would summon them shortly.

"Do we have a choice?" Danny said afraid this was a government issue now.

"Of course you do," Mrs. Frederic smiled and left out the part where he had a choice to run but would not get far. "But I hope you will wait to talk to Agent Wells."

"Who is Agent Wells?" Katie asked her brother.

"Exactly," he said as he stared out the window and watched the woman disappear into the house.

Mrs. Frederic stood at the bottom of the stairs after having sent Pete to get HG from upstairs. She would give Helena fifteen minutes at most to see if she could work this mess out. Then she was prepared to put into action any one of the Regents' suggestions. She hoped she would not have to choose one of the darker ones. There would be serious ramifications for Helena if she had to use them.

Minutes after the Sage disappeared into the house, the driver asked Danny if he and his sister would come with him and he walked them to the front door. Danny recognized Leena from the art gallery and smiled at her as she escorted them into the office off the front hallway. "Mrs. Frederic will be back in a few minutes. Can I get you some iced tea?" she asked and her calm voice put Katie at ease immediately. "Yes, thank you, " Katie said and Leena left to get it.

They had no idea where they were but they looked around the office that was warm in earth colors and stacked with books. It was the kind of study Danny dreamed of having when he was a child. A big room with a leather couch and chairs and a large desk where he could do all his writing. Of course in his fantasy, this room would overlook Central Park West in New York City blocks away from his job at the New York Times. And now, if he played his cards right, he would have all of that plus the tuition for Katie's college.

"Where did she go?" Katie asked as she looked around.

"I have no idea," Danny said.

"Maybe to get your _girlfriend_," Katie said.

* * *

Now Mrs. Frederic stood outside of the door with HG and Myka. "You have fifteen minutes Agent Wells. Use them wisely," HG said and she opened the door.

Helena turned to Myka. "Remember what you told me Myka - only 7% of my message should be words," she said as she walked in. Myka tried to figure out what that meant.

Danny Sullivan shot up from his seat to greet the object of his interest. Helena walked squarely across the floor, never taking notice of his sister, eyes locked on him with a look that gave him shivers up his spine.

"This must be my lucky day to meet yet again, Mr. Sullivan," she said. Danny didn't want his heart to start racing but his body reacted to seeing the dark eyed woman once more. And she seemed much friendlier this time.

"Agent Wells," he said as he extended his hand but Helena moved past his hand, leaned up and kissed his lips…and held him there.

Just before she very slowly broke the lock she had on them, she let her tongue gently slide across his upper lip. Synapses fired off in his brain and his heart rate increased, hormones released and his entire body betrayed him in reacting to the overt sexual advances. Helena smiled as she put her hand to her chin, sliding her index finger across her bottom lip and slowly allowing her mouth to encase it for only a moment. "Do you know, Mr. Sullivan that 93% of one's message is conveyed through body language and tone," HG whispered in his ear in a low sultry voice.

Danny literally fell back onto the couch – the signal to Helena that she had accomplished what she wanted; the boy was putty in her hands now. All that was left to do was to shape him into what she wanted – an overzealous reporter who would admit he got his facts wrong.

She was about to turn to Myka and say something snarky about Helena Wells never needing a Plan B when she caught sight of Katie Sullivan for the first time. This was an interruption she had not planned on. The teenager stood there with her arms crossed, her emotions a mixture of anger and admiration for the woman who had just disarmed her brother in very little time.

"Oh bloody hell," HG said when she saw her. Then she looked at Myka whose expression conveyed that she was not pleased. Not at all.

"What?" HG said innocently to her partner. "You were the one who told me….," HG said defensively but was too busy thinking to wait for Myka's answer.

And then Myka saw it. HG's eyes flashed as her expression turned from slightly annoyed to predatory. The lips started to curl slightly as the solution formed in her head. And Myka realized that HG had no compunction whatsoever about doing the same thing to Katie that she had just done to her brother. HG's smile went from satisfied to wicked as she looked Katie up and down. Katie had the distinct feeling she knew what it felt like to be the fly caught in a spider's web about to be devoured.

HG started to walk toward the young girl when Myka pulled her partner to her with a grip that hurt HG's arm.

"You better find another way Agent Wells or so help me, you will not like how I repay you for this later," she whispered to HG and her tone was full of warning ….. and promise. HG stared at Myka and those green eyes never appeared more serious.

"Fine," Helena said almost pouting at being deterred from her plan. She drew in a deep breath, changed her expression from voracious to friendly and put her hand out to Katie.

"I'm Agent Wells. You must be Katie Sullivan," HG said and put both hands on the one Katie extended to her. She squeezed the young girl's hand just a little and looked her straight in the eyes.

"What did you do to my brother?" Katie asked staring at the stupid grin that her brother had on his face.

HG turned around to look at the young man still sitting on the couch. "Nothing …. yet," HG said smiling - so very proud of her work.

* * *

Mrs. Frederic had been sitting calmly in the dining room with the other agents when suddenly she rose from her seat. "Prepare the iced tea please. Apparently, Agent Wells' plan is not working."

* * *

**Thanks to all who posted with thoughts and suggestions - I appreciate them all. **


	10. How to PLAN A Disaster

Chapter 10 **How to _Plan A _ Disaster**

Claudia sat at the dining room table with her laptop opened and her fingers flew across the keys. She didn't like the expression on Mrs. Frederic's face and when she told Leena to _prepare _the iced tea, it sounded gloomy. This was a program issue and she was a tech whiz so there must be something she could do. She had to help HG because she knew she was in trouble. Mrs. Frederic did not go to the Regents about just any problem.

* * *

Helena let go of Katie's hand and turned to her brother who was just now sitting up straight on the couch. "Mr. Sullivan, I do apologize but we seem to have a bit of an issue here," HG started.

"Lady, you have no idea how big your _bit of an issue_ is," Katie said and now she sat next to her brother. "My program says you are not just related to the great HG Wells, but you are one and the same person as his sister," she said feeling braver. She found the dark haired woman intimidating but she wasn't going to let HG know that. The point was moot – HG already knew how daunting she could be when she wanted to be.

"How is that possible?" HG asked innocently - sitting on the coffee table in front of them.

"Well Ms. Wells, that's why I was on my way over here to ask you before we were intercepted by that woman and _invited_ here," Danny said.

"And what was it you were going to do when you got here?" HG asked seductively.

"Ask you what the hell was going on. Are you … I mean… is it possible that you could be … I mean …. how could it be? You and that woman…..?" Danny asked losing his train of thought.

"All good questions," HG said dryly - trying to point out he had not completed a single thought.

"Look, all I know is that my program has a 93% accuracy rate and it shows that you and that chick from the 1890's are the same person," Katie said defensively now.

"Ah yes - your program. The one that allows for additional algorithms using the shape of the auricle to identify individuals," HG said.

"You know about my work?" Katie asked surprised. Helena looked at her directly, a smile slowly appearing on her face.

"I know that it has a 7 percent _error _rate," HG said not being able to hold back on the sarcasm.

"Better than any program out there," Katie said protectively.

"Well – perhaps - but still with a margin of error that we can't ignore. I believe that is what will account for this match that you believe you have. You see, as a blood relative I naturally share some of the same genetic makeup as HG Wells and his sister," HG tried.

"But …," Katie tried but HG held up her hand to silence the young programmer. She really had enough of her. Helena knew in negotiations, you go to the weakest link and in this sibling couple that was Danny.

"Daniel," Helena started and Katie pointed out that no one called him that but their grandmother. "Daniel, " HG repeated on purpose and shot the girl a look for the interruption, "I think we can solve this dilemma easily enough. You want a story that will catch the eye of the _New York Times_. Write your story about HG Wells' sister and her affair with Jules Verne," HG offered.

"Even if that was the story I wanted, I need corroboration Agent Wells. All I have is some speculation that he got shot because of a love triangle. It is Oscar Wilde's diary that speaks of Wells' sister being the brains behind those stories," Danny pointed out. "And you yourself, more than once Agent Wells, said '_she_' created the time machine and was the genius. That is the story I want."

Myka looked over at Helena as if to say how you will explain that but HG was lost in a dreamy smile. "She really was the brains," she said absentmindedly. "But not the author I am afraid. Brains –yes, but little patience for sitting down and writing. No, Charles wrote the stories Daniel and you're wasting your time if you think you can prove otherwise."

"Then why isn't the author of those stories _Charles_ Wells? Why did he use _HG_ as the author's name?" Katie snapped and HG turned to Myka biting her lower lip – her eyes pleading with her to allow her to Kempo this young woman into silence but Myka shook her head. She wasn't sure what HG was asking but she knew it was not good.

HG drew a deep breath for patience. "Helena was an educated woman, Ms. Sullivan which was a rarity in those days. Her diaries show that she spent a great deal of time studying the sciences and had a penchant for all things mechanical. It would appear Ms. Wells served as a resource for her brother when he wrote. It has always been a family held belief that Charles chose the nom de plume in deference to his sister because of her contributions to his stories. Charles was a caring sibling and knew it was unfair that she had not been given the same opportunities simply because she was a woman. He was a great supporter of the suffragette's movement you no doubt read in your research," HG said knowing this a well-known fact about Charles. She put her hand on Danny's knee as she said this reigniting the sparks.

Myka was listening to all of this and it was taking a long time for the Brit to make her point. She cleared her throat and said; "Agent Wells, could I speak to you for just a moment?"

HG was really getting tired of these interruptions but she acquiesced and got up.  
"Hel, I don't mean to rush you but Mrs. Frederic is going to be through that door in a few minutes," Myka reminded her.

"_You_ are the one who told me _not_ to use my words and you saw how that turned out," HG said putting the blame on her partner.

"Yes I did," Myka said letting Helena know that was not what she meant and she did not like it. "We'll discuss that later. But for now, you better get Plan B working. Tell him you'll pay for his sister's tuition from the HG Foundation."

"Pardon me?" HG asked because she had not thought of it so it took a minute to take that in.

"You know the Foundation you're the sole heir to? You can write a check for the tuition. But do it quickly," Myka said smiling at their guests trying to appear nonchalant.

"Myka, put the chair by the door," HG instructed.

"What?" Myka asked incredulously.

"Put-the-chair-by-the-door so you-know- who can't get in. I need more time," HG said with her teeth clenched.

"Are you asking me to block _her_ from coming in? Are you bloody mad?" Myka said unaware of her words.

"Myka, please. I need to make this happen," HG pleaded and Myka knew she was right. If she failed at her attempt, God knows what would happen to any of them after Mrs. Frederic got back in here. Myka started to do as she was told.

"I am going to be shot at dawn. They probably have a secret service squad trained just for this and they are going to line up and shoot me," Myka said out loud to herself as she placed a chair by the door and sat in it. "Or she will just look at me and I will disintegrate. I am so not getting the Agent of the Year Award for sure now," Myka moaned.

"Yes, well let's get back to things here shall we?" HG said ignoring Myka for now. "As I understand it, you are under a bit of a deadline to make your plan work," HG said figuring out that he would want to publish in time to pay Katie's tuition. "Daniel, I believe I possess _everything_ you need to make your dreams come true," the Brit said.

"Oh I bet you do," Katie shot back and HG was truly reaching her limit with the impertinent youth.

"I do hope Yale appreciates that _unbridled_ enthusiasm of yours," HG said exasperated but not looking at her.

"Daniel, I am the sole heir to the Wells fortune. Most of the money is in a foundation set aside for educational grants and scholarships. I'm sure we could arrange for Katie here to receive the money ….," HG said.

"Are you trying to buy my silence?" Danny said getting his back up against the proverbial wall.

"You can't buy a Sullivan!" Katie backed him up.

"Buy a Sullivan? Buy your bloody silence?" HG asked in disbelief and full Brit accent. "Are you both insane? No, if I wanted your silence Mr. Sullivan …," HG said in a tone that Myka knew too well.

"Helena!" she called from across the room from her station and sounded very much like the mother who yells at her child at the playground from a great distance. There was no time for threats.

Helena let out a deep breath at the correction. "No, Daniel I am trying to rectify the mess I have created. You do know I am an agent of the U S Government and my boss does not take kindly to the attention this could create," HG said making the first point that Danny could understand.

"As for your story, I have in my possession documents that would prove that my great-great grand aunt was having an affair with Jules Verne…," HG started but was interrupted….again.

"And his nephew?" Danny asked because it was insinuated in the documents and research.

"Eh well, yes …," HG said and then heard from the door…

"Both Helena? At the same time?" Myka could not help herself.

"Yes – it was a different period, darling," HG said slowing knowing that was a discussion that would come up later. "But she didn't do it to spy on Verne for her brother. She was fascinated with how his mind worked. He kept detailed note cards on every scientific procedure he wrote about in his stories. He was fastidious about getting the details right and she admired him for that," HG said.

"And what did she like about the nephew?" Katie couldn't help but ask.

"He was a boy, nothing more than a novelty I'm sure," HG said more bluntly that she should have and didn't dare turn to look at Myka. "Turned out the poor thing was actually unstable," HG said reflecting back on how surprised she had been all those years before by his actions and subsequent incarceration in a mental facility.

"The point is, Mr. Sullivan, you can write your story with proof that there was an affair and put to rest that silly notion that she did it to spy for her brother," Helena offered.

"But then why did you say '_her genius'_ and '_she invented the machine' when we were talking_?" he reminded HG.

"Well, from her journals which I have read, she seems to indicate that she took the notions her brother put forth in those books very seriously. She was, after all, a scientist and wanted to make sure that what her brother theorized about, in fact could work. Hence when Verne told her his story about men going to the moon, she hypothesized that they would have to be sent there by rocket. She worked on the blueprints of a model that could potentially have worked. But believing a woman could imagine such a thing was not acceptable and so Verne chose instead to shoot- them-out-of-a-cannon," Helena said with disbelief still in her voice. "It is what caused their affair to end," she said authoritatively.

"Perhaps I was over compensating in my words, Mr. Sullivan for an injustice done over one hundred years ago," HG said finally.

Danny Sullivan was so captivated by Helena that he listened to every word. He of course had no way of knowing that the greeting she had offered him before was simply HG's interpretation of Myka's suggestion. Kate, on the other hand, was not taken in by their host.

"Well, explain _this_ then Agent Wells," the student said as she grabbed her laptop and opened it to the split screen of the two pictures of HG.

Now even Myka got up from her station and looked at it. She had listened to HG's propositions and they sounded convincing but she knew none of them answered the facial recognition program. But as they all looked at the screen, no one was more surprised than Katie that the box now flashed "_No Match_".

"That's rather my point," HG said - just as startled as the rest - but not letting it show.

* * *

**Thanks for waiting for this chapter ...next one up soon I hope. **  
**Always appreciate your feedback/comments and thank you to those who take the time to do so. **  
**Cheers,**


	11. The Real Knoll It All

**Chapter 11 The Real _Knoll_ It All**

Claudia was never really impressed that the Warehouse Library contained first editions of every book and had trouble understanding Myka's enthusiasm about reading them. She didn't share Pete's exuberance for the sports items they had housed there. And although she liked when HG talked to her about the inventions in the Genius Aisle, it was not the thing that really got her engines going.

What impressed Claudia the most and gave her goose bumps was the section on first edition software programs. When she came upon that one day in inventory, she was like a kid on Christmas morning or like Pete in the bakery – any bakery. She spent her spare time downloading all of the programs to a single database that could be accessed. What made these out of date programs so special was that many of them were the first copies of the software that the original programmer threw his/her heart into. And in doing so, many of them were imbued with special effects. This is what the young techno whiz remembered as she sat there at the dining room table.

Claudia was taking HG's problem _du jour _very personally, since it was a _high school_ student's program that was the issue. She didn't want to admit it to anyone but that was more than a little threatening to her. She was considered the computer genius in this group. She didn't want to have her friend get into serious trouble because of someone else's programming know-how and not be able to help. Under different circumstances, she might have enjoyed talking to Katie Sullivan and learning how she came up with that platform. But her software was going to hurt Helena – and it wasn't often that she got the chance to help the great HG Wells.

When Mrs. Frederic told Leena to '_prepare_' the iced tea, Pete asked what she meant.

"It will render our guests memories suspended for a time, until we can figure out what we are going to do with them," Mrs. Frederic answered and then added, "This is not going to bode well for Agent Wells either I am afraid."

Claudia listened to everything that was said and got the gravity of the message but she never picked her head up. She was searching for the one file that might help them out. With lightning speed, she was writing an interface platform that would connect the software she wanted with every database out there in the known universe. No small feat and she knew time was of the essence.

"Can't you just get into her program?" Pete asked Claudia again. "Mess it up a little?"

"Can't do it, Pete," Claudia said not looking at him. "Even if I had time to rewrite the sequence, she could examine it and find the glitch. I think I have something better."

Now she had Mrs. Frederic's attention. The Sage put her hand up to Leena to wait on bringing in the iced tea. There on the tray were four carefully placed glasses of the beverage. Only two were specially prepared and those were for the guests. The other two were for Myka and HG who would have to be encouraged to drink along so as not to arouse suspicions. There was a secret code for such situations. Every agent knew that if they were offered something with the phrase – "_I think this will hit the spot_" – they were to partake in the drink without question. All Leena had to do was to distribute the drinks properly. A task she never failed at.

Mrs. Frederic had been watching the clock. "_Agent Wells is to be given a maximum of fifteen minutes to resolve this issue_," was the decree handed to her by the Regents. "_Then you will administer the elixir to the reporter and his sister. The effect will be temporary but it will provide us with time to pick them up,_" she was told.

There was nothing about this plan that Irene liked. Involving the public was serious business and she knew that there would be ramifications. How many times had she come to the aid of her British Agent and negotiated exceptions because of HG's _special_ circumstances. But having to detain citizens called for the utmost care and could be froth with complications and consequences. The Regents were not happy with Agent Wells and the Sage was unable to run interference anymore in this. Still, Irene understood how it happened. She had spent many a day with HG's file while she sipped tea in her sanctuary – amazed at how fortunate they were to have such a genius in their midst. And yet, how hard she thought it must be for Helena never to have received the recognition she deserved. How tempting it must have been when that reporter questioned her – to finally have someone discover the true mastermind behind those stories and technology. She understood that Helena had no shortage of ego – and would struggle with passing that opportunity up. It was however, dangerous and Agent Wells was wrong. This is why the Sage knew she had to take matters back into her own hands and was about to when the youngest member of her team halted her.

"Ms. Donovan?" Mrs. Frederic asked because she had already extended HG's time limit and knew it wasn't working. Any moment the guests could storm out of here and then force might have to be used. Claudia was pressing keys loudly and rushing, murmuring to herself.

"Take this file and apply it," she said out loud and Pete looked at Leena who put the tray on the table. "Come on, come on….," Claudia said to the machine in front of her. She anxiously watched the rectangle bar on the bottom of her screen slowly crawl to the 100% complete mark. "You can do it, you can do it..," she coaxed the program.

"Go …go ….," Pete yelled joining in - to just what he didn't know but believed in supporting his friend. Mrs. Frederic waited patiently because the next step was the beverage delivery.

"It's done!" Claudia jumped up and she and Pete embraced. Leena was all smiles even though she didn't know why – just a sense of relief came over her. The only one who was not animated was their boss.

"It's okay, it's okay. The pictures won't match now. Look ….," Claudia said accessing the Sullivan laptop and showing them exactly the same thing that Myka and HG were staring at. At the bottom of the screen flashed the "_No Match_" icon.

"How did you do that? You hacked right? You're not supposed to hack though…." Pete droned on and then remembered who was there. "But in this case, you know, they'd let it slide right Mrs. F?" he asked hoping.

"I didn't hack. You know that stockpile of first edition software programs we have at the Warehouse? Well, one of them is the original _Adobe Photoshop_ that John and Thomas Knoll worked on. They were brothers, you know," Claudia said pointing out the obvious.

"Yes!" Pete said having no idea what that meant.

"And?" Mrs. Frederic asked.

"Well, Thomas Knoll was the software engineer and when he teamed up with his brother, John who was the visual effects supervisor on the Star War trilogy…," she said to Pete and he was impressed. "Oh yeah….so….they developed the innovative method of selecting and affecting parts of a picture. I took their first disc which we have and wrote a program to apply it to every photo of the Helena Wells from the 19th century. I couldn't do it to the 21st century HG cause they could still take pictures of her. So I altered a few pixels on the old HG and sent it out to every fraking database with a picture of her - and the beauty is - that it will apply to downloaded copies, too," Claudia said breathless at the end.

"They won't match," she finally summed up. "They're looking at this right now," she gasped out.

Mrs. Frederic was very pleased that one of her own had come up with such a palatable solution. But she had to go check to make sure. She didn't say a word – she left them in the room and went to the office. She didn't knock – and she was a little surprised when she opened the door and it hit the empty chair. She looked down at the placement of that chair. It was obvious that it was there to prevent her from entering. And she knew who had been sitting in it.

"Really, Agent Bering?" she said slightly chastising Myka that she would give into Helena's idea.

"Look!" Myka said thinking the Sage would be impressed.

"Of course, Agent Bering. No match as we expected," Mrs. Frederic said calmly. Katie Sullivan had grabbed back her laptop and was trying to figure out what happened to cause the anomaly.

* * *

Outside, Claudia took one of the iced teas to soothe her throat from speaking without taking a breath. And Pete grabbed one of them too.

"Where the hell am I?" he asked after emptying the glass.

"Oh Pete – no!" Leena yelled realizing one of the prepared glasses was void of the tea.

* * *

**Hope to wrap this up soon - how is it going so far? Did this answer the issues?**  
**If not, let me know - I appreciate all your comments esp those with suggestions, questions, etc.**

**Cheers**


	12. Rocket WoMan

** Chapter 12 Rocket (Wo)Man**

Katie Sullivan was busy pressing the keys almost in the same fashion as Claudia had been doing moments before but Katie's efforts would prove fruitless. No one had messed with her program; the pictures were still there so there was little for her to go on. And yet, when she looked over at the woman who had escorted them there, there was a knowing look that she picked up on. Danny looked at Helena, as if to ask _what did you do_ but HG just smiled. Myka seemed like the only one who was surprised.

"Was Agent Wells at all helpful in clearing up this matter?" Mrs. Frederic asked because she already knew HG had done nothing to save her own neck.

Danny put his hands through his hair, knocking off his beloved hat and this time, not caring. His mind was with his sister as she frantically looked for what the issue was but his body had signed over to Team Wells and he was trying to decide now if that was all a ruse or did she mean any of it. Of all the women he had studied, Helena was a mystery.

"Agent Wells has offered me HG Wells' sister's diary," Danny finally said and Mrs. Frederic turned and took a long look at HG. "Did she?" she asked with an unsettling tone.

"Mr. Sullivan, I hope you understand that although that is technically Agent Wells' personal belongings, I'd like to make sure it clears through our protocol. We could have whatever affects Agent Wells has so generously offered -given to you at a later time, if that's agreeable?" Mrs. Frederic asked and now HG knew who was in charge.

"Of course," the reporter said as he looked at HG who smiled but didn't say a word. It wasn't going to be breaking news anyway Danny decided, so there was no rush.

"I'm not sure what you did here, but I will find out," Katie Sullivan said as she shut down her laptop. She stood up and looked at Mrs. Frederic since she figured the agents in the room could not have done it.

"Please do keep me posted on your progress with that, Ms. Sullivan," the Sage said pleasantly because she had all the faith in the world in Claudia. "I would like to walk with you now, Ms. Sullivan," the Keeper said and she put an arm around Katie as she walked outside with her. Katie wanted to shirk her touch because she was so annoyed but there was something warm in the older woman's embrace and she went with her. Katie paused only momentarily in the outer hallway when her eyes met those of the youngest member of the household. Something about her spoke to Katie. "You an agent, too?" she asked because the woman didn't look old enough to be out of college. The question surprised Claudia who was putting the face with the brain whose program she deemed brilliant.

"Agent Donovan is indeed one of ours," Mrs. Frederic answered when the silence persisted. Claudia liked that answer.

"Mrs. Frederic, I think Pete _forgot_ something and I was wondering if you could help us out here?" Claudia said because Leena was having trouble keeping him quiet. "Did he?" her boss asked and Claudia shook her head.

"Excuse me, Ms. Sullivan. Agent Donovan, would you please keep our guest company for a minute while I refresh his memory," the Sage said as she walked inside.

"Who are you? Who am I?" Pete asked again and Leena sighed relief at seeing the woman. Mrs. Frederic reached her hand out and grabbed Pete's forehead and held onto it. He went to grasp the woman's wrist but by the time he reached it, his memory had been restored – none too gently.

"Please Agent Lattimer; I have my hands full with Agent Wells. I cannot watch you, too," she said as she left.

She walked back into the hallway where Claudia was truly rambling on about the wood design in the hallway because she did not want to slip and let Katie know she knew who she was "And so if you look at the curve of the design in the woodwork here…," Claudia babbled.

"Agent Donovan?" Irene asked as if to say _what you are talking about_.

"I was pointing out the curve….. of the …woodwork here?" Claudia said.

If anything, it helped convince Katie Sullivan that she had not yet met the person who managed to disrupt her program. She said goodbye and walked outside with Mrs. Frederic.

* * *

In the meantime, Myka waited in the room with HG and her latest conquest.

"Anything else you want to clear up with Mr. Sullivan before he leaves?" Myka said looking directly at HG, arms crossed.

Oh here was the aftermath of her actions. She knew there would be some backlash but she would simply remind Myka how it really had been her idea.

"I'll give you two a moment, Agent Wells," Myka said smiling at her partner. "Mr. Sullivan, it has been an interesting 24 hours," Myka said shaking his hand. She looked directly into those black eyes before leaving and her message was clear; _Fix this_.

"Well, Mr. Sullivan, I will see that you receive the papers that will confirm your story as soon as I can," HG said.

"Helena, the way you … I mean when you came in here and …. Why did you do that?" Danny asked and HG was surprised at her reaction. She could not dismiss him as she would have expected. Myka told her not to use words and so she used her other talent of disarming a man with her charm. But she had armed this guy herself – he wasn't discovering things as much as connecting the dots she had given him.

"Mr. Sullivan, you are probably a very good reporter but I sense you are an even better brother. You and your sister seem quite protective of one another and I like that. I believe my great- great grandfather was a caring brother, too. But those were different times, Mr. Sullivan. You will do anything to help your sister because you believe in her but society has evolved and will not cast doubt on her given talents simply because she is a woman. I doubt she will be the only female computer genius at Yale this year albeit the most stubborn," HG said finding the one thing about the young girl she did like.

"I am not sure what happened here but I know what I saw and I know that Katie will not give up," Danny assured HG. "Yet none of this explains your greeting," he reminded the Agent.

"Ah, yes my nonverbal reception," HG said and thought hard. "Sometimes, Mr. Sullivan, my words get me into a lot of trouble. I was trying a slightly _less wordy_ approach."

"Well, that language suits you very well. In fact, I believe you're exceptionally fluent, " Danny smiled back knowing in spite of the sensation it caused him, the sender had not felt it. Helena walked with him to the outside hallway.

"Agent Wells, I am a good reporter and I know a story when I see one. I will write about the Wells- Verne affair but my gut tells me there is more to this story than meets the eye. And you, Agent Wells know that story. I hope when you're ready to tell it, you'll call me," Danny Sullivan said kissing the hand that HG extended. It was not often someone did something that charmed her but that gesture reminded her of a time when gentlemen did that sort of thing out of deep respect for a lady.

She hoped she would prove as charming when clearing this up with Myka.

* * *

"Why Yale and not MIT, Ms. Sullivan?" the Sage asked the young tech whiz.

"I do not want programming to be done without social principles. We need to be responsible for our technical advances and not allow them to be used against the greater good but for the greater good," Katie said back. "And I haven't made Yale yet."

"Oh I don't think that will be a problem. I would like you to keep me abreast of your educational advances, Ms. Sullivan," the Sage asked.

"And why?" Katie asked the sting of defeat still in her voice.

"Our own computer expert will be moving on to another job in the future, one that will require a great deal of training that will preclude her from overseeing our security and technical needs," Irene spoke authoritatively.

"I don't know that I want to work for the government, Mrs. Frederic," Katie said bluntly.

"Don't think of it as the government, Ms. Sullivan. You might think of it as working for the greater good," the Warehouse Keeper smiled.

Now Daniel joined them in the black car for the short ride back to his car.

"Do you know, Mr. Sullivan that in 1926 Robert Goddard was one of the first to propose a liquid fueled rocket? And although rockets had been around for hundreds of years, it wasn't until the 20th century that the principles of rockets for space travel emerged. The missiles that inspired Francis Scott Key's famous line; '_rocket's red glare'_ were actually invented by William Congreve in 1807. But they only went up 9,000 feet," Mrs. Frederic said as if this was all relevant to something.

The Sage continued to look out the car window as they drove to their destination. "And did you know that although Verne wrote about traveling to the moon six years before Wells, it was Wells who wrote about space travel - in which a substance with anti-gravity properties launched them to the moon? Verne used a cannon," she scoffed. It was the second time that Danny heard someone mock Verne for his lack of accuracy in interplanet transportation.

Katie Sullivan looked at her host with a frown on her face because she did not get what this history lesson had to do with anything. But Danny's instincts told him otherwise. He sat there attentively listening.

"It is said that Goddard, the father of modern rocketry, got his inspiration from reading HG Wells' _The War of the Worlds_," Irene said finally pulling her gaze back to look her Danny. There was the slightest smile across her lips. "Amazing how powerful one story can be, don't you agree Mr. Sullivan?"

They emerged from the car to see that the red sports car had been watched over by the driver of the car that had blocked their retreat.

"Ms. Sullivan, it has been a pleasure and I look forward to our next meeting," Mrs. Frederic said and Katie refrained from sharing the '_hell no_' that rang inside her head. Then the Keeper turned and took the file her driver brought from the car.

"I believe everything you need is in here, Mr. Sullivan," she said handing him the closed folder. Danny looked down at the sealed dossier.

"That was quick," he said because he didn't expect to see what he was promised any time soon.

"Oh, in spite of what you think, Mr. Sullivan, the IRS is a very well-run machine," she answered.

"I was expecting to see "_Top Secret_" stamped across it," Danny said smiling.

"We're the IRS, Mr. Sullivan, not the CIA," Mrs. Frederic said seriously and walked back to the car. Danny watched as the cars drove away.

"Let's go, Katie," Danny said as they both got into his beloved car. He put the radio on and in a rare event for a station that only played his favorite rap and hip-hop, a retro song played.

_And I think it's gonna be a long long time  
Till touch down brings me round again to find  
I'm not the man they think I am at home  
Oh no no no I'm a rocket man  
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone_

"That was so weird," she said and he shook his head. "I am so gonna figure out what they did," she assured him and herself. When they both reached home, Danny's parents came rushing to the door.

"Katie look what came!" her mother squealed with delight. She handed a business size envelope to her daughter; the return address clearly marked '_Yale Admissions'_.

"But acceptances are not due out for weeks and they're done electronically, Mom. This is probably just a letter that says I forgot to submit something," the teenager said and opened the flap. Amazingly enough, the letter was not a laundry list of things she forgot to give them but rather a letter welcoming her to the Class of 2016! Danny heard screams of excitement and everyone was hugging and Katie was off to her room. His father looked over at him and knew what he was thinking.

"Don't worry son, we'll figure it out," his father assured him because it was not Danny's burden to pay for her tuition. But Danny didn't believe that.

* * *

He went up to his room and threw the sealed file on his desk and it fell. He looked down at the paper that had slipped out and picked it up. He knew that file had been sealed. He pulled the papers out and fell back into his chair.

Now this was a story!

* * *

Thank you for reading along ... much appreciate it.


	13. A Woman of Few Words

**Chapter 13 A Woman of Few Words**

Danny knew he was looking at his big story but he wasn't quite sure what it was yet. He majored in journalism, not physics or engineering. He was going to need help and fast. He grabbed the portfolio that had been sealed and his car keys are ran out the door. He only had hours before the newspaper's deadline. He knew only one man who could help him decipher if what he had was authentic.

* * *

Mrs. Frederic _never_ explained herself – to anyone. The Regents trusted her to do what she did best and never questioned her. Her agents might attempt to inquire about her particular actions, but she never felt the need to share her motivations with them. They had to trust her – their lives were after all, in her hands. So she would not share with Helena that she had given a great deal of thought before handing over copies of certain of her personal effects. HG would find out soon enough what she had given him and probably over breakfast tomorrow morning. In the haste to leave, she had forgotten to give Agent Wells instructions not to go anywhere including the second floor of the B&B. She told the driver to take her back to the B&B. As much as she needed to go home and rest, she wanted to address the issues that still lingered.

It wasn't just dealing with the fact that Helena's slips of the tongue had endangered her cover – restoring one's memory as she had done for Pete was physically exhausting. It might have only taken a few moments, but the residual effects for the Keeper could be days.

Helena had her foot on the first step to go upstairs after Myka when she stopped. She had suffered _coitus interruptus_ one too many times today and she was hell bent on making good on her promise. And yet something told her to wait – something cold that made shivers go down her spine. She was about to shake it off and ascend those stairs when the front door opened and in it, stood Mrs. Frederic and she looked like hell.

"Are you quite alright, Mrs. Frederic?" HG asked concerned for the woman.

"I am tired. Now please assemble everyone in the dining room, Agent Wells," the Sage instructed.

Within minutes, the team sat around the table except for Artie who still refused to bring his car anywhere until it had been checked out by the mechanic. He still could not trust that HG touching his car would not result in the engine falling out as he drove.

"Much of what I have to say will be repetition but I know you will indulge me," Mrs. Frederic said knowing fully well they would.

"Pete, attention to detail is of the utmost importance in your job. So when _prepared_ glasses of iced tea on left on a tray, please take note that the ones for our guests are always toward the front of the tray," she said and Pete tried to picture the tray in his mind to see if he could remember the back from the front. "Got it," he said.

"Ms. Donovan, I believe it was your creative know-how that saved the day here," Mrs. Frederic said and Claudia immediately dismissed it but pride swelled inside her. "You see Agents Bering and Wells, while you were inside with our guests, it was Claudia's quick thinking and technical expertise that disrupted our high schooler's program and saved you from having to explain how you could be the woman from the 19th century. Her program affected any and all pictures of Helena Wells in any archive," the Sage said still impressed by the youngest team member.

HG and Myka immediately congratulated Claudia who was especially pleased that Helena was so grateful. "Come on guys, it wasn't really a big deal," she said modestly but they all knew it was.

"Agent Bering," she said next and they were all surprised she had anything to say to Myka. "Did you honestly believe you would impede my entrance into that room?" she asked looking directly at her. "I..uh…well, no…. I thought…..you know….I wouldn't have …..," Myka stammered. "Do not listen to _everything_ she says, Agent Bering." "Yes, ma'am," Myka said, her face now flushed.

"Agent Wells," Mrs. Frederic said and everyone else pulled back in their chairs, bracing for what they expected to be a harsh lecture.

"It must be very difficult for you to wake up in a brand new century and find that although social mores have progressed, you still have never received the credit for your work," Mrs. Frederic said and the sympathy was evident in her tone. Perhaps it was this point that she related to Helena the most. There was a collective sigh of relief from the team that HG was not going to be subjected to a sermon – nor would they.

"Nevertheless, Agent Wells – you involved citizens in your latest faux pas and the matter has not escaped the attention of the Regents," her boss pointed out and HG's friends cringed at the mention of the group's name. "However, it worked in your favor this time, Agent Wells and I cannot stress enough how very lucky you are that it did." This would be one of those times when her comment piqued the curiosity of everyone at the table, but she would offer no further explanation. "I will point out Agent Wells that your offer to give Mr. Sullivan your memoir presented yet another issue which I had to have Ms. Donovan commence working on," she said. HG looked at her perplexed.

"Had I allowed you to hand over your journal as you promised, they would have a sample of your handwriting which I am sure Ms. Sullivan would quickly have written a program to analyze against anything else with your signature," Mrs. Frederic pointed out. "She's not going to let up, you know," she seemed to say as a point of fact.

It was true that Helena's handwriting was stuck back in an age when script was practiced until perfected. People would often comment on how unique it was when she had an occasion to use it. "Fortunately for you Agent Wells, Ms. Donovan saved you again - this time applying her program to work on your past writings. We've already tested it and it does seem to work," Mrs. Frederic said and again offered nothing further.

"I am going to retire to my abode and I wish not to be disturbed, is that understood?" she said concluding the meeting. They all agreed in unison of course that no one wished to bother her any more than they had.

"And I have reconsidered what I said to you earlier, Agent Wells," Mrs. Frederic said looking down at HG. She leaned in closer to HG who did not flinch and said;

"Je crois qu'être obligée de garder le lit de l'Agent Bering pourrait, en fait, vous tenir loin des problèmes jusqu'à ce que j'aie recouvert mes forces pour la prochaine fois où vous agirez sans penser. Assurez-vous que cela dure au moins deux heures," her boss said in flawless French. (_I believe being confined to Agent Bering's bed might in fact keep you out of trouble until I can regain my strength for the next time you act without thinking. Please make it at least two hours.) _

Myka's many years of French allowed her to comprehend exactly what Mrs. Frederic was saying and once again, she blushed from the content.

"Man I have got to learn me some French," Pete said still suffering from the headache he developed a short time ago.

After they were sure their boss had left the house, they each got up. Claudia was returning to her program to make sure it was scanning every database with HG's handwriting. HG approached her.

"Claudia, you really did save me from a great deal of trouble today. I appreciate not only your efforts but your bloody brilliance in coming up with this," HG said sincerely.

Claudia was overwhelmed to be the recipient of the _great HG Wells'_ admiration. Emotion overcame her, not a state she liked at all and she tried to make light of it. But she reached out to HG and hugged her – a gesture she did not do often but savored it each time it occurred. Myka and Pete loved her but Helena got who she was – at her core.

Pete had retired to his bedroom to sleep off what had been a neurological overload to his gray matter. Mrs. Frederic's gesture was a dose of pure energy to his hippocampus – a rebooting of his short term memory – and it had been almost as exhausting for him as it had been for her. Leena went to the kitchen to dispose of the iced tea and the glasses. It was a complicated process to make the chemical solution that went into the tea and she had to be very careful about its disposal.

Helena turned to Myka who was still recovering from her boss' linguistic play on words. "I have decided that it is important for every good agent to follow orders, don't you agree Myka?" HG teased. "_Now_ you're going to follow orders?" Myka retorted putting her cool hand to her face in an attempt to cool her cheeks. "Yes, and as it turns out her orders coincide with my promise to you," HG said now her eyes renewed with desire. "Don't you think you've done enough physical activity for one day?" Myka asked letting HG know she had not forgotten her kissing Danny Sullivan. "Are you referring to my osculating before? Please Myka – you were the one who pointed out that I should not use words in getting what I wanted," HG said feigning innocence. She moved closer to Myka invading her space and touching the ends of her hair. The motion sent tremors from Myka's scalp down her spine. She really did not like witnessing Helena's attempt to subdue the man. "You did not have to French kiss him, Helena!" she said regaining some composure and allowing the anger to surface. HG stopped and looked into her eyes. She saw the hurt – the frustration of having taken that action seriously. "I'm sorry, Myka. It was a thoughtless act on my part and I apologize," HG said sincerely. "Really?" Myka said because Helena Wells _n-e-v-e-r_ apologized. Ever. "Of course, darling. I reverted to an old behavior of using intimate physical contact to overwhelm a man's senses and then simply take what I want," HG explained plainly. "Oh," Myka said because it did make sense and now HG was stroking her arms slowly. "That does not work on everyone, " Myka tried to recoup. 'No, of course not darling," HG said being gracious not to point out that it was already happening. She was slowly moving Myka in the direction of the stairs. "I should be very angry with you," Myka tried but even she knew she wouldn't be. "Perhaps a good tongue lashing is in order," HG said salaciously and Myka moaned out loud. She grabbed Helena's wrist quickly – not to stop her ministrations which were delightful – but to drag her up the stairs to the bedroom. Even Myka had had enough talking for one day.

And of all the agents in the house, Myka Bering was the one who followed orders the best – over and over again.

* * *

While Myka left her partner speechless for most of that late afternoon, Danny Sullivan was sitting in the home of a professor from SDU. It was the only man whom Danny thought could help him with this.

"Where did you find this?" the man asked looking over his wire rimmed glasses.

"I was researching Jules Verne and HG Wells for the Steampunk Exhibition and came across it. Is it real? What does it mean?" Danny asked looking down at the blueprint that was in the envelope Mrs. Frederic had handed him.

"Well, Danny boy, if I am correct and I believe I am, you have stumbled upon proof that the blue prints for a workable rocket into space using antigravity fuel matter were designed by someone years before we thought one was invented – and by a woman no less," the physics professor said amazed.

He ran his fingers over the paper that was filled with drawings and mathematical calculations. He explained to the young reporter that this drawing showed that the rocket possessed the three key technologies for space travel - large liquid fuel rocket engines, supersonic aerodynamics, and guidance and control. It meant little to Danny but he could tell that the professor was quite taken with it all.

"Danny, the first rocket that could fly high enough to claim the title '_space rocket'_ was the V2 developed by the German scientists, Von Braun and Reidel. The first of their rockets to reach space was not launched until 1942. The plans you're looking at – could have surpassed that rocket - and fifty years before it. Danny, this is going to change history!" the man said almost out of breath.

Danny smiled at what he was hearing. How did he wind up with blue prints instead of a diary? He knew the Wells – Verne affair was page 40 news. But his was headline news – and he had to hurry if he was going to make the deadline for Sunday's paper.

The professor thanked him over and over again for bringing him the papers to look at. "I think what you have discovered here is the work of the _Mother of Modern Rocketry_," he said shaking Danny's hand. Danny thanked the scholar for his help and made his way back to his office.

* * *

"You got my headline for tomorrow, Mr. Sullivan," his boss asked because he could tell how excited Danny was.

"Believe me Harold, it's not just going to make news tomorrow," Danny said as he sat down at his computer to type.

* * *

Do think the next one will wrap it up. Thanks once more to Ariel Hedgehog who allows even Mrs. Frederic to speak French accurately.  
I do appreciate you reading along. I've attempted to keep this as historically accurate as I can (for those real rocket scientists out there - lol).

Cheers,


	14. Epilogue

Thank you to all of your who have read along to the end. I so appreciate your comments/feedback and ideas.  
I have take some liberty with dates to make this story line flow. But have made an effort to keep  
most of it close to the truth.

* * *

**Story 12 Epilogue**

For a guy who prided himself on being able to follow the speed of any story, Danny sat at his desk trying to piece together all the information he had gathered since Friday night. Was it serendipity that he crossed paths with an Agent from the IRS who had some very strong opinions about the exhibition at the local gallery? From the first time he laid eyes on her, his gut told him there was a story there. As much as the woman seemed to tell him, she also seemed to be holding back. And when all was said and done, she offered him a journal to confirm an affair - but instead sent him blueprints? Hardly a mistake - he was certain of that. He would have loved to have had more time to use his skills to get at how HG thought. But that would have to wait – right now he had to come up with a lead story. He put his fingers to the keyboard and let the story unfold.

* * *

Sunday morning broke with bright sunshine and birds chirping outside. Mrs. Frederic ran her finger across the folded newspaper that had been placed carefully on her dining room table. She didn't read the article– she didn't need to – she would save that for later when she was having her tea. But she smiled nonetheless. She felt pleased that perhaps she had helped Helena finally get some of the recognition she so richly deserved.

Myka was the first one downstairs to join Leena. She had stopped to pick up the paper that was strewn on the front porch. She opened it up as she sipped her orange juice. "Wow…" was all she said before she ascended the stairs, two at a time. HG was still sleeping and she moved next to her. "Hel, wake up sleepy head," she coaxed her partner. Helena didn't open her eyes but smiled at the sound of so sweet a voice to wake up to. "You need to see this, Hel," Myka said softly and it was enough to make the Brit push up in bed on the pillow. Myka handed her the Univille Tribune.

"_Woman Rockets into Limelight_" was the headline and the byline read _Daniel Sullivan_. Helena pushed herself up to a sitting position not sure if she was happy or not about what that headline read. Myka's phone rang and she picked it up immediately. All HG heard her say was – "OK, I'll tell her." "Mrs. Frederic says it's okay. Do you have any idea what she means? she asked HG. HG looked mystified and Myka took the paper back from her before she positioned herself next to her and began reading:

_Oscar Wilde once wrote – "__Man can believe the impossible, but man can never believe the improbable." Oscar knew what he was talking about. Time is a funny thing. What seems impossible today is believable tomorrow. But improbable is tougher for time to smooth over. We deem something i__mprobable because of what we believe. We base our beliefs on a lot of things and one of them is our bias. It is part of the human condition. Years ago, they believed it impossible that we would create something that would take us into space. That was left to the story writer's imagination and it helped foster the science fiction genre. No one influenced that writing more than the great HG Wells. A prolific author, HG fused his stories with the grandeur of so wild an imagination, that many thought he must have had help. He did indeed. Many set out on the journey to discover who his secret source was and they all failed. The answer sadly was right in front of them but it was the improbable choice and so they looked the other way. _

_It was rare for a woman of the late 19__th__ century to be given the opportunity to study at a college like Oxford or Cambridge let alone both of them. But HG Wells' sister, Helena Wells did. Records show she took courses at both schools, sometimes simultaneously. The records will also show that her only failing grade was in a science course where the assignment was to come up with an original design of a machine – any machine. Ms. Wells submitted to the teacher a design for a fuel propelled rocket. He gave her today's equivalent of and "F" and suggested to her father that he remove her from his class immediately so as not to distract the more serious students. A more easily discouraged woman may have tossed the blueprint aside. But Helena Wells was passionate and caring and not easily discouraged. She showed the design to her brother who was writing a story about men traveling to the moon. And the rest, as they say, is history. _

_What history did not show was that the design was not only good fodder for a fantasy about moon travel – it was scientifically ingenious. It would take another fifty years before someone else would make the prototype of a rocket that would reach outer space. This time, it was man –two actually and so of course, it was deemed possible. If only they had used her brother's idea of a time machine and traveled back those fifty years – they would have seen the plans of their machine already drawn up. _

_Upon seeing the blueprints, Professor Smith of South Dakota University's Physics Department has concluded that what Helena Wells drew and figured out mathematically is nothing short of physics wonder. She figured out how to get a rocket into space long before anyone else. _

_But we are in an enlightened era- are we not? How is it that a student researching the technical advances of mankind over the past century or two has not managed to uncover her work? Was it buried in some secret cave like the Dead Sea Scrolls? Had they mysteriously vanished after Miss Wells died? No, just like the nose of the proverbial face, they were accessible. They were not included in the display of HG Wells' home in London but they were there. Wells' handwritten copies of his great works were on display under specialized glass in climate control cases. These plans however were shoved in a closet that the person in charge of cataloguing the house's contents probably never got around to. No one expected the old school papers of his sister who was lucky enough to go to school to contain much of anything - let alone one of the most amazing finds for the scientific community. _

_Alas there is no time machine to take us back – so that we might right the wrong of dismissing the genius that was Helena Wells. But that does not mean we cannot make up for lost time and honor the woman who truly is the" Mother of Modern Rocketry". Who knows what else this woman dreamed up and made reality? _

_Helena Wells' brother is quoted as saying – "__What really matters is what you do with what you have." HG Wells would probably agree that his sister, Helena did a great deal with all she had. _

Myka's voice trembled with emotion as she read the last few sentences. Her eyes were moist – and a combination of pride and happiness swelled up inside her. But there was sadness, too. Helena lay there silent. There was no expression on her face. She didn't seem upset or angry nor did she exude joy or satisfaction. Myka didn't like it when she couldn't read her – it meant she was in a faraway place that even she had trouble getting to. "Hel?" Myka said softly and put her hand on her arm. It drew HG back immediately. "How did he find the blueprints do you suppose?" was all that HG said looking out the window. Myka's phone beeped and she looked at the text. "Mrs. Frederic said she gave him a copy of it yesterday and knew you wouldn't mind. You don't mind do you Helena?" Myka asked confused.

"No," HG said quietly.

Truth be told, she wasn't sure what she felt. It was, on one hand - to have what she always wanted – the recognition for her brilliant work. And yet something was anticlimactic about it. "I doubt anyone in Univille is spilling their coffee over the news that a woman invented one of the first rockets able to lift off into space," HG said laughing and relieving Myka's concern.

Maybe not in Univille. But Danny's story did catch the eye of the Science editor of the New York Times. And Danny Sullivan was on a plane Sunday afternoon headed to New York to share his story – and the blueprint of Helena's rocket. By Tuesday of that week, Danny's story was on the first page of the New York Times. Tuesday is the day the paper runs its special section on Science – and the brilliant Helena Wells was their featured person of interest.

The paper was specially delivered to the B&B per Danny's request.

"HG, OMG – your story made page one of the New York Times!" Claudia said at their breakfast meeting.

"That's not my story, darling. That would be Mr. Sullivan's," HG pointed out – feeling good about it all nonetheless.

"So you handed him your blueprints, Agent Wells?" Artie inquired.

"Mrs. Frederic did," Myka offered and that shut Artie up immediately. She must have had her reasons.

"Well, there's still plenty of inventory work to be done so welcome back to earth, Agent Wells," Artie said making sure no one wasted time of this story.

As Artie droned on about the lists that needed completion, Myka turned to HG.

"Do you have any idea how happy I am to see that you will finally get some of the credit you are due, Hel?" Helena smiled her appreciation. In a rare display of open affection, Myka stroked Helena's cheek in front of everyone even though they were all occupied.

"You are so beautiful," Myka said.

"According to the great HG Wells – _beauty is in the eye of the beholder_," Helena responded.

"Charles wrote that?" Myka said because she had heard the expression but never knew it was credited to him.

"Of course not darling! I gave him that, too," HG laughed and so did Myka. Of course she did.

* * *

That fall, Katie Sullivan began her first semester at Yale. Her courses included the school's premier edition of a class on the _Science of Science Fiction_ – a dual course given by the Physics and English departments. Katie looked down at the picture of Helena Wells in her textbook – the one published just over the summer for the course – and could not get out of her mind what she knew to be true. Nothing she tried after that day at the B&B would confirm what she had originally found. But that would not deter her – she knew someone had done something – and she would spend all her free time trying to figure it out. But not today. Today after class, she would be on the 3:40 train from Connecticut to New York City to meet Danny when he got off work at the New York Times. Yes, the Sullivan siblings certainly did have the luck of the Irish it would seem. Or was it the good fortune to cross paths with Helena G. Wells?

* * *

Mrs. Frederic was meeting with the Regents. They had asked for her to come to them because, once again, they had not come across this before.

"Mrs. Frederic, do you feel this event will in any way change Agent Wells?" they asked.

"No, I assure you that while Agent Wells might be very pleased with the news, it will change nothing," the Sage assured them.

"How can you be so sure, Mrs. Frederic?" one brave Regent asked.

"I know Agent Wells, Mr. Young. I know her very well and I assure you, the news that Helena Wells will receive the Nobel Prize in Physics posthumously will not change a thing. All in all - this is very good," Mrs. Frederic said and in rare moment, smiled from ear to ear. "Très bon, en effet."

* * *

**I hope this answers all the questions - and ties up all the loose ends. If not - please let me know and **  
**I'll do what I can to fix it. Many thanks to all who posted - much appreciate you taking the time and interst.**


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